


The Good Son

by London9Calling



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Assassination, Barebacking, Emotional Baggage, Explicit Language, Explosions, Family Secrets, First Time, Guns, Homophobic Language, M/M, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Organized Crime, Past Relationship(s), Rimming, Slow Burn, Violence, mentions of drug smuggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 23:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 43,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13491828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London9Calling/pseuds/London9Calling
Summary: The first time Kyungsoo met Chanyeol he learned the meaning of the word betrayal. Five years later he’s expected to forgive and forget. After all, congratulations are in order, Chanyeol is now engaged to his older sister. The arrangement is part of a deal to join their crime families together, a deal Kyungsoo can’t help but loathe no matter what the circumstances are.





	The Good Son

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #299  
> Please read the tags for warnings.
> 
> To the OP, I hope this does your prompt justice. When I saw the prompt I fell in love and well, it kept me writing for a few months to try to capture the spirit of it. Hopefully you like what I came up with!
> 
> A huge thank you to Consorte who held my hand through this fic and made it what it is today. I couldn't have done it without her. Thank you so much, ILY! Thank you to Nessa for reading this through at the last minute and giving me your thoughts. In Sung owes you a hug. Thanks to the mods for being patient with me when I asked for an extension (and also for running this kick a** fest).
> 
> I took some liberties with this story, if anything bothers you I apologize in advance. Guns are very illegal in South Korea but it is not mentioned in the fic, I did not use Romanized honorifics because I am uncomfortable writing them, and gay marriage is not legal in the country. I am sure there are a few other elements that aren’t 100% accurate but in general I tried my best to research before writing (excluding the three points I mentioned before).

**_Jeju Island  
April 2012_ **

They flew in on a Tuesday. Clouds hugged the island, obscuring it from Kyungsoo’s view until they were almost on the ground. The plane landed with the familiar grind, Kyungsoo gripping the armrests, acting like if he didn’t hold on he would surely be ejected out of his seat. It was a nervous habit he could never quite shake no matter how many times he flew.

Beside him, Sehun snickered, apparently amused at the way his eyes suddenly widened the moment the tires hit the runway. “So, you do experience feelings like a _real person_.” He dragged his hand through his blonde hair, mussing it up, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo shot back, relaxing his grip as the plane slowed, taxiing on the runway. He leaned towards the window and stared out at the drab airport.

Kyungsoo had been to the island a few times as a child and despite Jeju being a renowned resort destination, he wasn’t suitably impressed. He was a serious kid, and it hadn’t particularly interested him. Memories of a few days by the pool, his parents taking him around to hike Mount Hallasan, a smattering of museums and trips to beaches….it wasn’t anything that he held onto or considered precious in his mind.

Now he was back as an adult, nineteen years old. Three months had passed since his father let him start working for the family business, _really working_. His trip to Jeju was his trial, his first big test.

“There should be a car waiting for us,” a voice spoke from the seat behind him. In Sung, the corporate lawyer and trusted family confidant had accompanied him. Kyungsoo had no doubt he was there as much to aid him as to report back on how he was doing. His father would be watching his every move.

He had a lot to prove and a lot to lose if he fucked up.

 

 

Sehun whistled when the hotel came into view. “I knew I made the right choice when I took this job.”

It wasn’t only Kyungsoo’s first big test, it was Sehun’s as well. Sehun was an old friend with ties to the Do family through his father. He was the one condition that Kyungsoo had insisted upon when he went to work for the family. His father had In Sung, it was only fair he had a trusted right hand as well.

Sehun was one year younger than Kyungsoo, both barely adults in the grand scheme of things. Sehun’s father had worked for Kyungsoo’s father for years, a strong man and later an underboss, running the brothels that the Do family tried to keep their names away from. They were unlikely friends in many ways. While Kyungsoo couldn’t wait to be an adult, to be given responsibility, Sehun often tried to shrug it off. He was Kyungsoo’s friend but also his project—Kyungsoo would make a responsible person of him someday, even if it killed him.

“Your father usually stays here when he comes down,” In Sung remarked, gesturing towards the luxurious resort that loomed in the distance. “The Shilla.”

“It’s nice,” Kyungsoo mumbled, not knowing what else to say.

Sehun snorted. “Nice? I think it is a little more than nice.”

“ _Very_ nice,” Kyungsoo replied, earning a chuckle from In Sung.

 

 

 

He had an entire suite to himself, an airy set of rooms that likely cost a small fortune to rent. Five minutes after he arrived in his room he was already fielding texts from Sehun asking when they would be checking out the rest of the resort.

Kyungsoo sighed before reminding his friend (once again) they weren’t there for a vacation. They had work to do.

The Do family’s trade was construction by all accounts, though there was a darker side to the business. Bid rigging, bribery, a string of brothels that their family-operated back in Seoul, an empire built by his father’s hard work. They had been known to dabble in the drug trade and they weren’t beyond smuggling goods if the market was right.

This trip to Jeju was _almost_ legal, or about as legal as any deal they made. A chunk of land sat on the southern side of the island and Kyungsoo’s father was targeting it as a resort. Tourists from China and Japan flocked to the area, making it a sound investment. On the flip side, the tourist industry meant there was an opportunity to offer certain illicit services to the right customers, not to mention the opportunity to use the resort for money laundering purposes. The deal skirted both sides of the business, and the fact Kyungsoo had been charged with overseeing it was not a small matter.

He was sent to slip cash in the pockets of officials that might vote against the project or challenge the construction in any way. He had to handle the contractors, the land surveyors, and everything in-between. Once the project was on the right track, completion guaranteed, he could fly back to Seoul and hopefully his father’s approval.

He hadn’t gone to college, he didn’t have a degree in business. Sometimes he felt lacking, even if the _real_ family business had less to do with a college education and more to do with knowing how to handle people. How to run a front, a business that could look legitimate to everyone else, all while covering up a more sordid underbelly. How to keep the feds off their back, how to play the right people against each other when it was convenient. Those were the things he needed to learn, the things he had been taught throughout his teenage years.  

He would do anything he could to prove he was ready, that he was worthy of taking on more responsibility.

Including pissing off his best friend by taking the battery out of his phone after one whiney text too many.

 

 

Kyungsoo couldn’t help but feel a little over his head. The first day on the island he had an angry run-in with a contractor and found out that one of the building officials was so enthusiastically against the development he refused to even see him.

By the end of the second day, he was fighting against a messed up set of plans and a slew of angry calls from his father.

Things didn’t seem to look up until he neared a week on the island, the constant fires he was rushing to put out finally smoldering into a few manageable flames. He wasn’t going to let a moment of almost-calm put him at ease, however. He remained buried in his work, doing everything he could until he passed out for a few hours each night.

And he was quite content to maintain the grueling schedule until he flew back to Seoul.

 

 

“Come on, let’s go drink,” Sehun whined one evening, tugging at Kyungsoo’s arm.

“I can’t.” He kept his eyes glued to his laptop, to the reports that had been sent down from the corporate office earlier that evening.

“Yeah, you can. It’s my fucking birthday and you forgot, _again_.” Sehun slammed the laptop closed.

“Hey!” Kyungsoo yelled, indignant. Then Sehun’s words caught up with him. “Wait, it’s your birthday?”

Sehun sighed. “Just come on, buy me a shot and I’ll forgive you.”

Kyungsoo gave his laptop one last look before he stood, agreeing to Sehun’s demands. An hour away from work wouldn’t kill him.

Probably.

 

 

Kyungsoo wrinkled his nose. The drink he ordered was stronger than he would have liked, and it tasted like pure liquor. Loud music played, drowning out any chance for a conversation. The club was dark, strobing lights flashing over the dance floor. Somewhere in the writhing mass of tourists, businessmen, and students with good fake ids, Sehun was dancing.

Kyungsoo sighed, leaning against the bar and taking another sip of his drink against his better judgment. He pulled out his phone, checking the time. He would give his best friend another hour at the max before he trudged back to his hotel room to continue his work.

“You come here often?”

Kyungsoo glanced over, ready to deliver a verbal slap to the face at whoever had used the cheesiest, most clichéd pickup line known to man. But he couldn’t, not when he found himself staring up at a man with a goofy grin on his face. A man who was rather unconventionally handsome, whom Kyungsoo shouldn’t be so taken with at first sight. But….maybe he was. Just a little.

“No.” Kyungsoo regained his composure. He looked away, back towards the dance floor. It was stupid, the way his heart started to thunder in his chest. It was exceptionally stupid because he was not about to flirt with a random stranger at a bar, not when he was there on business. Not when his father’s guys were there. Not when his father would probably shoot him if he found out he was gay.

“Me neither,” the stranger said, leaning in so Kyungsoo could hear him over the music.

Kyungsoo shifted away from the man.

“In fact, it is too loud here. You want to go get a drink somewhere where they don’t give headaches out with the cover charge?” he half shouted.

Kyungsoo glanced up again. The man looked so damn eager. His mind was screaming at him to say no, to brush the guy off and go find Sehun to tell him he was leaving.

“Okay, sure.” Kyungsoo didn’t know where it came from, or how much he would live to regret ever agreeing to go. He decided he would blame the strong, horrible tasting drink. It seemed to be the best course of action, to blame anything but his own weakness.

 

 

He said his name was Kim Chanyeol. He was from Seoul, fresh out of some private high school that cost a fortune to attend. He wore an expensive watch; his t-shirt and jeans probably cost as much as an average salaryman made in a month. He said he was on an extended vacation, his parents happy to have him out of their hair. He laughed a lot, talked too much, and seemed very eager to get to know Kyungsoo.

They hadn’t traveled far, another bar at the hotel, albeit a much quieter one.

“You look too young to be here on business,” Chanyeol remarked. He tossed a kernel of popcorn in his mouth courtesy of the free, late happy hour snacks.

“I’m just starting out,” Kyungsoo answered cryptically. It was worse sitting across from Chanyeol in a quiet, relatively secluded establishment, he decided. Much worse because he could look him in the eyes, he could hear everything he was saying. He could almost pretend like this was some sort of date, which it couldn’t possibly be since they had just met.

“I guess that makes sense. I do work for my dad’s company from time to time.” Chanyeol didn’t seem to stop smiling and while Kyungsoo normally would find such exuberance annoying he found it oddly charming in this instance.

“What type of work does your father do?” Kyungsoo asked. The drinks were better at this place too, the bourbon going down smooth.

“Retail,” Chanyeol answered. “Your dad?”

“Ah. Development.”  Kyungsoo circled the rim of his glass with the tip of his finger. Development was as much as he could say. As much as he could ever say. He had grown used to it, in his short life, keeping secrets and pretending to be something he was not.

“And your hobbies and or interests?” Chanyeol asked, snorting. “You don’t need to tell me I am a great conversationalist, I already know.”

Kyungsoo found himself smiling, chuckling. It felt odd...nice to forget about all the serious shit and the stress for a little while. “I used to be really into Gundam modeling.”

“No shit?” Chanyeol whistled. “I have a buddy who is into that.”

“I still have my old ones but I gave up getting new ones. No time now that I’m working. What about you?”

“Computers, cars, spending my father’s money.” Chanyeol grinned. “You know, typical rich young asshole stuff.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. “Is that all you are?”

“Maybe.” Chanyeol’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “If you get to know me better you might find there is more to me than meets the eye.”

Kyungsoo swallowed. It really wasn’t fair how attractive Chanyeol was. “Yeah?”

Chanyeol nodded. “Are you busy tonight?”

He should really go back to his hotel room, look over the next day’s agenda, finish the report he needed to send back to Seoul. He really should…”No,” he answered, feeling his cheeks grow warm.

“Good,” Chanyeol said. “I’m happy you said that.”

  


Chanyeol kissed like he talked, quickly, energetically, with far too much enthusiasm. And Kyungsoo was just as enamored of it as he was of Chanyeol’s propensity to never fall silent. They fell onto Chanyeol’s bed, a mess of arms and legs, tugging at each other’s clothing. Chanyeol tasted like scotch, he smelled like some cologne that Kyungsoo had forgotten the name of.

Kyungsoo tried to put as much energy into making out as he normally reserved for work, figuring he had already damned himself to a poor decision. He tugged at Chanyeol’s clothing, his hands fisting into the fabric.

Chanyeol licked into his mouth, tongue sliding against Kyungsoo’s own. Kyungsoo felt unbearably warm, his dick hardening at the brief contact they shared. It felt divine, Chanyeol on top of him, kissing him, bodies pressed together. He was so much smaller than Chanyeol, the taller man easily maintaining control of their position. He liked it, to feel the weight pressing against him.

When Chanyeol sucked Kyungsoo’s bottom lip into his mouth he moaned, arching up, pressing his erection against Chanyeol’s stomach. He felt a moment of embarrassment at being hard so quickly, a feeling that disappeared the moment Chanyeol nipped at his bottom lip.

Chanyeol’s hands managed to ruck Kyungsoo’s shirt up, his wide palms dragging against the skin of his torso, to his chest, palming a nipple. His hands were soft against Kyungsoo’s skin, a tantalizing drag against his buds.

Kyungsoo trembled against the touch. He felt like his mind was short-circuiting with each trace of Chanyeol’s wide hands on his skin.

There was an element of danger, of the unknown, which drove Kyungsoo’s arousal. They knew next to nothing about each other. He didn’t know shit about the man whose weight pushed him into the mattress, the man with the deep voice, who seemed like he couldn’t get enough of touching Kyungsoo, of feeling every inch of him. It was better this way, more erotic. It seemed to heighten the sensations, the lack of emotional baggage that existed. It was pure lust that drove them on not a promise, not a future, nothing but what they could give each other in that moment.

Chanyeol nipped and sucked along Kyungsoo’s jaw, teeth grazing against skin as he continued to play with Kyungsoo’s nipples.

He never knew he was so sensitive there. With every press, every light caress of Chanyeol’s palm against his bud his breath hitched, body growing warmer.

“You’re gorgeous,” Chanyeol husked against his neck, sucking lower.

Every part of him was reacting to this praise, to these new feelings. He arched his back, wanting to be closer, to feel more pressure. It wasn’t his first time making out, but this… _if they_ ….this would be his first time. He hoped his inexperience didn’t show, that his eagerness wasn’t too much.

“I want you too–“ his words were caught in his throat when Chanyeol began sucking a mark into the base of Kyungsoo’s neck, another pleasure point he had no idea existed.

His hands moved of their own accord, fingers carding through Chanyeol’s lavender hair, urging him on.

He whined when Chanyeol’s lips left his skin, a noise he never imagined he would make. Chanyeol sat back on his haunches, lips swollen, hair messy. He looked hotter than anything Kyungsoo ever remembered seeing. Halfway to being wrecked, full of promise, of want, of need. 

He dragged his t-shirt off with one swift movement, tossing it on the floor. His abdomen, the muscles of his torso were revealed. He wasn’t ripped but he was toned.

“Shit,” Kyungsoo said under his breath, appreciating the sight.

“You too.” Chanyeol gestured at Kyungsoo’s shirt with a smile, obviously happy at Kyungsoo’s appreciative gaze.

Kyungsoo wasn’t going to say no. He worked on the buttons of his shirt, one flying off as he hurried to undress. Chanyeol smirked at the show, his smile fading once Kyungsoo had his shirt completely off. He leaned back into the mattress, a sudden feeling of shyness overcoming him.

Chanyeol’s eyes were on him, a heat contained in that gaze, raking over his middle. Kyungsoo instinctively put his hands to his stomach to shield himself. Chanyeol reached forward, grabbing his wrist and gently pulling his arms away.

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he keened and in a moment he was on top of him again, fitting himself between Kyungsoo’s thighs, lips attached to skin, sucking marks onto Kyungsoo’s chest.

This position seemed to suit them, Kyungsoo’s fingers tugging at Chanyeol’s hair, threading through the soft purple locks as Chanyeol’s mouth went to work marring Kyungsoo’s pale skin. When he took Kyungsoo’s nipple into his mouth for the first time the smaller man whimpered at the stimulation.

Chanyeol reacted, hand playing with the bud as he continued to tease the other with his tongue. Kyungsoo found himself widening his legs, his thighs rubbing against Chanyeol’s naked torso. His hard cock strained against his pants, the fabric feeling unbearably intrusive. Sweat was forming on his brow, his lips fell open of their own accord.

Chanyeol’s hand roved lower, pressing into Kyungsoo’s side before resting at the waistband of his pants, thumb teasing the edge of the fabric.

Kyungsoo hooked his leg around Chanyeol, heel digging into his leg. It felt like an oddly possessive gesture.

“I want to fuck you,” Chanyeol rasped, breathe tickling against Kyungsoo’s abdomen.

Kyungsoo let his fingers go slack in Chanyeol’s hair, the taller man moving away, lower, pressing his lips along Kyungsoo’s waist.

“Want to fuck you open, to make you come again and again.”

“You’re all talk,” Kyungsoo said, his voice shaky. “Prove it.”

Chanyeol accepted the challenge, hands going to the button of Kyungsoo’s pants. Kyungsoo obliged, lifting his hips when Chanyeol pulled down the zipper, cooperating as his pants were pulled off of him. Chanyeol wore that same damn smirk that he showed before, moving off the bed long enough to divest himself of his own jeans.

It was a repeat, mutual appreciate looks, their attraction clear. Kyungsoo couldn’t help but take a moment to stare. Chanyeol was big, his dick flushed red, hard against his abdomen. He was long, wide…Kyungsoo unconsciously licked his lips at the thought of being breached by _that_.

He frowned when Chanyeol moved towards the dresser, confusion set aside the moment he opened a drawer to produce a tiny bottle of lube. Of course. Kyungsoo blushed, hating his inexperience.

And now it would only show more. He had never been fucked, never fingered himself. He didn’t know what to expect, was nervous how much it would hurt.

“Do you want to or should–“

“You do it,” Kyungsoo said quickly, spreading his legs. He bit his bottom lip, eyes trained on the ceiling as he swallowed hard.

“I was hoping you would say that,” Chanyeol said, voice low.

Kyungsoo tried to relax when he heard Chanyeol climb back onto the bed, but it was difficult. This was new, he didn’t know what to expect. He heard the click of the cap and tensed.

“Are you okay?” Chanyeol asked gently, sensing his sudden hesitation.

Kyungsoo nodded. He gripped the bedsheets, fingers bunching up the fabric.

Chanyeol cleared his throat. “Is it your first time?”

Kyungsoo closed his eyes. “Maybe.”

“Relax, it will be okay.”

For some reason, he listened. He jerked once when Chanyeol circled his rim, when the cold lubricant came into contact with his skin. Chanyeol whispered soothing words, the pad of his finger smearing the cold gel around his hole. He felt a sudden sense of affection that this man, this stranger, wasn’t judging him for his inexperience. He was trying to comfort him, to make it feel okay, making sure he was comfortable.

“I’m going to press it in now.” Chanyeol rested one hand on Kyungsoo’s thigh, a warm touch in direct opposition to the cold feeling between his legs.

When Chanyeol pressed a finger in Kyungsoo immediately tensed up. It seemed like every muscle in his body constricted at once, his breath hitching at the intrusion.

“Shhhh,” Chanyeol soothed him, his finger pressing in slowly.

Kyungsoo tried to relax, eyes shut tightly he breathed in deeply. And then Chanyeol began to move, the digit slowly sliding out and back again. The initial sting started to fade. It felt weird but not necessarily bad.

When Chanyeol added another finger Kyungsoo arched up, whimpering. More soothing words spilled out of Chanyeol’s mouth, his hand on Kyungsoo’s thigh rubbing gentle circles.

He began to slowly thrust his fingers in and out, a subtle burn that began to build into a pleasurable drag. When he angled his fingers, fluttering them, Kyungsoo gasped, pushing back like he wanted more.

Chanyeol worked him open, adding a third finger that had Kyungsoo clawing at the bedsheets, lips parted as he took in the sensation of being breached for the first time.

When Chanyeol’s fingers pressed into the bundle of nerves inside of him he gasped, a sign for Chanyeol to stop.

Kyungsoo whined, hole clenching around air. He felt needy, empty, wanting. He watched through hooded eyes as Chanyeol clicked open the lube bottle, coating his hard cock. He tensed again when Chanyeol’s hands came to his hips, pulling him closer, lining himself up.

“You have no idea how good you look right now,” Chanyeol whispered, the head of his cock teasing Kyungsoo’s hole.

Kyungsoo bit back a moan, waiting. When Chanyeol pushed in for the first time Kyungsoo cried out, nerve endings firing. The stretch was good, so good, as Chanyeol slowly pressed his length inside.

Kyungsoo’s thighs clenched, nails dragging against the sheets.

“F-fuck,” Chanyeol stuttered. “You’re tight.” He fell forward, bracing himself with his hands pressed into the mattress. He thrust in, hard.

Kyungsoo threw his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing as he was filled. “And you’re–“deep breath. “Too fucking big.”

Chanyeol chuckled, a sound that was cut off by a mutual moan when he thrust in once again. Kyungsoo’s hands went to Chanyeol’s back, short nails digging into the skin.

Kyungsoo tilted his head back, exposing his neck, as Chanyeol slammed into him. It was a new feeling, an amazing filling, to be filled, to feel skin on skin as he was split open then left empty. It made him needy, made him cry out, urging Chanyeol to go faster, to fuck harder.

He sucked his bottom lip in, looking up, training his eyes on Chanyeol, on the way his lavender hair was plastered to his forehead, face wet with beads of sweat. Pupils blown, muscles contracting in his arms, eyes downcast, like he wanted to see how they were connected, where they were connected, the place where their bodies met.

Chanyeol grunted, grabbing at Kyungsoo’s thighs and pressing them forward. Kyungsoo could feel the trail of fire run down his torso, his stomach tightening when Chanyeol pounded into him at the new angle. He was hitting his prostate dead on, his cock ramming into the bundle of nerves over and over.

“I–“Kyungsoo cried out, back arching.

“Come for me,” Chanyeol rasped, continuing the brutal pace.

The heat coiled in Kyungsoo’s stomach. He gasped, muscles tensing as he felt the sensation begin to build.

Chanyeol reached forward, sheathing Kyungsoo’s cock in his hand, pumping it. The stimulation was too much. Kyungsoo clenched down, spurting with a strangled cry.

He gasped, brow furrowing as he watched Chanyeol, sweat dripping down his face. He grunted, thrusting unevenly before he cried out, pulsing inside of Kyungsoo, spilling his seed as he fell forward with a strangled cry.

They both struggled to catch their breaths, Chanyeol’s dick softening, he pulled it out, a trail of cum leaking out of Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo raised his hand up to Chanyeol’s neck, caressing the nape. “Thank you,” he muttered, not knowing what else to say.

“Hnmmm,” Chanyeol hummed, flopping onto the bed next to Kyungsoo. “I should be the one saying that.”

Kyungsoo smiled, feeling sated, fucked out, happy. So very different than he normally felt, than he had ever felt. It was oddly peaceful.

 

 

“You seem distracted,” In Sung leaned over and whispered. They were in a meeting with a supplier, Kyungsoo should be paying attention. He hadn’t known it was that obvious he wasn’t.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, going back to taking notes.

He _was_ horribly distracted. He had rather foolishly given Chanyeol his phone number, which led to several texts throughout the day, stupid little messages about things he was doing on his vacation, a picture of a crab on the beach. Nothing about them should make Kyungsoo’s heart pound, or his face heat up, but they did.

He asked to see Kyungsoo again, later that night.

 _I’ll see what I can do_ , he texted back, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

He glanced over at In Sung. The lawyer looked so confident, so put together, perfect posture, perfectly tied tie. Kyungsoo sat up a little straighter, feeling a bit like he was playing grown up.

 

 

 

Kyungsoo took one step into Chanyeol’s room and was immediately pulled into a hug. He struggled to get away, unused to the affection.

“Sorry, I missed you,” Chanyeol said with a smile.

Kyungsoo brushed it off. “You seem really desperate.”

“Nah. I mean for you, yes, but not in general.”

“So what rich asshole things did you do today, other than stalking poor crabs for selcas?” Kyungsoo toed off his shoes, walking into Chanyeol’s room like it was his own. He didn’t want to overanalyze why he felt so comfortable after only knowing Chanyeol for a day, he didn’t want to second-guess himself. If he started to think about it too much he would begin to regret and pull away—which was probably a good idea. He didn’t need a fling, he didn’t need any of it. But a large part of him wanted it.

He tried to reason it out, to blame it all on the immense pressure he was under of late. A fling was more attractive now than it had ever been. He needed a few hours to take his mind away from the grueling pace he was driving himself at. Things had settled down in the last week, he could take a few hours to do something other than stress about making his father proud.

“I put a down payment on a new Lamborghini over my phone. Does that count?” Chanyeol asked, plopping down on the end of his bed.

“Yeah, I would say so.” Kyungsoo sighed. How different their lives were; their only common denominator seemed to be money. Kyungsoo didn’t spend his money like Chanyeol, frivolous, showing off, but he had it thanks to his father’s underworld dealings.

“Come here.” Chanyeol opened his arms, wiggling his fingers, beckoning Kyungsoo to come closer.

“Are you always this needy?”

“Only with you.”

Another sigh, an eye roll, but Kyungsoo acquiesced. He took the few steps forward until Chanyeol was grabbing him into a hug and rolling him onto the bed.

“Hey!” Kyungsoo pushed back, feigning annoyance.

“I thought about kissing you all day,” Chanyeol said in a low voice, face inches away from Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo felt his face grow warm. “Then do it.”

Chanyeol didn’t have to be told twice.

 

 

“Another month, two at most.” In Sung pushed the revised timeline across the table, Kyungsoo eying it up. “You’ll be happy to go back, I assume.”

Kyungsoo nodded, staring at the blue and green color-coded project plan. He tried to look interested but his mind was stuck on something other than business.

“You seem more relaxed down here. It’s nice,” In Sung said.

Kyungsoo looked up from the paper, trying to hide his surprise. How much did the older man know? Had he guessed...?

“Your father can be overbearing on the best days. You handle it well but what can I say, you seem a bit more yourself away from him.” In Sung smiled. “He’s proud of what you’ve accomplished so far, in case you wanted to hear that.”

“He is?”

In Sung nodded. “He called me last night.”

Kyungsoo worried his bottom lip. Only In Sung ever heard things like that from his father, Kyungsoo had never once been told he had done a good job.

“You remind me a lot of him when he was your age,” In Sung mused. Kyungsoo recognized the faraway look in his eyes, the almost comical expression he made when he decided to talk about the past, about the times when he was young, running around with Kyungsoo’s father with they didn’t have a pot to piss in. “Though of course, he was taller.” In Sung reached over, ruffling Kyungsoo’s hair.

Kyungsoo batted his hand away, earning a laugh from the older man.

“Was my father…?” Kyungsoo didn’t know how to ask it, struggled to find the words. He didn’t have a lot of chances to ask In Sung such questions. Regardless of how close he was to their family the lawyer was usually holed up with his father or hanging around to talk business, not personal matters. “He was never as serious as I am, was he?”

In Sung shrugged. “That is all relative. Your upbringing is a lot different than his. He wasn’t stuck having to please someone like himself. He could be a little more reckless. Which is probably why he ended up owing me such a big favor.” In Sung winked, grabbing the project timeline and slipping it back into his folder.

“Favor?” Kyungsoo asked, not understanding what he was referring to.

“Just don’t do anything stupid.” In Sung warned, half-serious. He stood, grabbing his briefcase. “The deal isn’t done yet.”

Kyungsoo swallowed. He needed to remember that.

 

 

Attachment, Kyungsoo thought, was a terrible thing. It was stupid, how he found himself zoning out, thinking about Chanyeol, wanting to see him when he really needed to be focused on his work. On anything but falling into bed with him.

But then the night arrived and he never could say no, not when he had already worked for almost twelve hours, not when there wasn’t an issue to chase or a phone call to make. Sehun had stopped harassing him to hang out and In Sung wasn’t watching him in the evenings.

It was too easy to slip into Chanyeol’s room or invite him into his own suite. It was too easy to spend a couple hours together, pretending the world was a lot simpler than it really was.

“When are you going back to Seoul?” Chanyeol asked, raising Kyungsoo’s hand to his lips. They were lying in Kyungsoo’s bed, exhausted.

“Not sure,” Kyungsoo lied, knowing full well that he would be gone before the summer was over. “You?”

“Not sure either.” Chanyeol squeezed his hand. It was overly affectionate, not the first kind of gesture that had Kyungsoo feeling a strange sensation in his chest. “We should meet up though, you know when we are both in town.”

When Kyungsoo hesitated Chanyeol asked a question that neither man had addressed. Kyungsoo hadn’t even thought to bring it up, didn’t want to bring it up. It was too personal as ridiculous as that seemed. They might be fucking, they might be…doing whatever they were doing, but they weren’t sharing their lives. Not completely. Not entirely.

“Are you out? To your family I mean,” Chanyeol asked quietly.

“My father would kill me if he found out I was gay,” Kyungsoo admitted. His sexuality was something he kept carefully hidden. Gangsters didn’t have gay sons, or at least his father didn’t. He had heard the slurs leave his mouth more than once, knowing from a young age that he could never fully admit his sexuality to his parents.

Chanyeol linked their hands, fingers carding together. He squeezed Kyungsoo’s hand reassuringly. “What about your mother?”

Kyungsoo exhaled shapely. “She would probably never speak to me again.” He stared up at the ceiling. “I’ve known since I was in middle school that I liked guys. But….it just isn’t something I can tell them about.”

“So you will never come out?”

“I don’t know. I can’t imagine doing it right now…”

“Same, to be honest.”

Kyungsoo tensed when Chanyeol gave him a surprise peck on the cheek. “What was that for?” he asked like he wasn’t lying naked next to him, like the chaste kiss was something to be startled about.

“You deserved it.” Chanyeol smiled, falling back into bed.

 

 

Even if he was working in Jeju, the business in Seoul never really left him. He might not be running the operation back at home but he was still kept abreast of the major developments that affected it.

“The Parks are up to something,” In Sung reported one morning over breakfast. They sat at the table in Kyungsoo’s suite, his room the largest of the three.

 _The Park family_. They had been the enemies of the Dos for as long as Kyungsoo could remember, or at least for as long as he had some visibility into what his family really did. They’d messed up at least half a dozen rackets that Kyungsoo’s father had set up, had stolen from them, had shot more than one of the family’s soldiers. Kyungsoo hated them with every fiber of his being. They were the antithesis of his own family. Flashy, in your face, courting fame in dangerous ways. It was a rivalry that had existed since his father was a young man, building his empire while fighting against another street kid attempting to do the same.

 “What are they doing?” Sehun asked through chews, a crumb of toast falling onto his baby blue dress shirt. He wiped it away with his hand, leaving a smear of butter.

“Not sure yet. But we might be called back early if something happens.”

 _Early_. Kyungsoo couldn’t fight a sudden order to return any more than he could fight the inevitable conclusion of his work on the island. His thing with Chanyeol was destined to end sooner rather than later.

 

 

  
Kyungsoo stifled a moan with the back of his hand. He dug his toes into the soft mattress, arching his back when one of his nipples was grazed.

“You’re still so sensitive.” Chanyeol’s words were spoken against sweat-slicked skin, his deep voice fueling the fire that coursed through Kyungsoo. He sucked Kyungsoo’s right nipple into his mouth, teasing the bud with his tongue.

Kyungsoo’s body hurt, his backside ached from the first round they had indulged in. The room smelled like cigarette smoke and sex, the bed was a mess of twisted sheets and their discarded clothing. 

Kyungsoo’s hands went to Chanyeol’s hair, his fingers carding through the shocking violet. He urged the man on top of him on, tugging gently, letting out the breathy moans he knew would make Chanyeol hard again.

When Chanyeol pushed into him for the second time that night a whimper escaped Kyungsoo’s lips. He raked his nails down Chanyeol’s back, leaving pink welts as he was fucked open.

The sensation of being filled was addicting. The slam of Chanyeol’s hips against him, the soft noises of pleasure he made when Kyungsoo sucked him in. It was like a drug to Kyungsoo, a drug that he couldn’t stay away from.

They came in unison, Chanyeol releasing inside of Kyungsoo with a strangled cry.

It took a few minutes before Kyungsoo could move. Before he dared to try and sit up.

“I need a shower,” he said, feeling utterly disgusting.

Chanyeol hummed. His hair was stuck up five different ways, his eyes half-closed, his face still flushed. Kyungsoo couldn’t resist leaning down and pressing his lips to Chanyeol’s cheek, earning a smile from the taller man.

“Sleep for a while before you go,” Kyungsoo whispered.

“What are you going to do?” Chanyeol asked, closing his eyes.

“I have work to do,” Kyungsoo answered, resisting the urge to plant another kiss on Chanyeol’s cheek.

Within a few seconds, a soft snore escaped Chanyeol’s lips.

The order to return to Seoul had come earlier that day. In Sung had already left, taking the early afternoon flight back. Kyungsoo had tried to think of any excuse to spend one more night on the island, one more night….

He glanced back at Chanyeol. He looked so peaceful, sprawled out on Kyungsoo’s bed. He wanted to commit the image to memory, knowing very well it would never happen again. The next morning he would leave for home, back to his life, back to a place where he couldn’t indulge in such reckless behavior no matter how enjoyable it was.

At least he had this, a couple months on Jeju, a few hours at a clip not giving a shit about his responsibilities, about what his father thought of him. Chanyeol had given him the most freedom he had ever experienced in his short life. It was a blissful existence, a sliver of something….or being relaxed, of letting go.

And now it had to end.

 

Kyungsoo returned to Seoul the next morning. It wasn’t until later that afternoon that he was informed of exactly what had happened with the Parks.

In Sung had delivered the news, stopping by Kyungsoo’s small office. “They wiped out three accounts.”

“How?” Kyungsoo couldn’t understand. The level of encryption that his father insisted on kept their money nearly untraceable.

In Sung sighed. “Guess you aren’t the only son studying under his father. Park Chanyeol is some kind of technological prodigy, or so we have been informed. No doubt he had something to do with it.”

“Park...Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo furrowed his brow. He had heard the name once or twice before, he knew he was the only son of the family, but the last he knew he was at some boarding school in another country, nowhere near the family business.

“Park’s only son. Guess he is back from school and ready to work for his father. Doing a fucking knock up job of it so far.” In Sung pulled out his phone, scrolling for a few seconds before turning it for Kyungsoo to look at.

Kyungsoo clenched his jaw when he saw the picture.

 _Chanyeol._ The same man he had let into his room. The same man who had ….the man who…violet hair, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

In Sung turned the phone away, slipping it back into his suit coat. “The decryption was apparently first rate. Your father has a team going over the network right now to try to find out how he breached it.”

He had left his laptop out when Chanyeol was in his room. He hadn’t hidden a thing from him, not knowing who he really was. He had given their enemy an in.

It was his fault.

Kyungsoo straightened his posture, hoping he wasn’t betraying his inner turmoil in his body language, in his expression. “Let me know what comes out of the investigation,” he said with an even tone.

“I will. For now steer clear of your father if you don’t want anything thrown your way. I dodged a vase when I went to see him earlier.”

“Noted.”

Kyungsoo managed a few minutes of small talk with the lawyer before he was alone again. He sunk into his office chair, bewildered.

He had been used. He had been seduced, stolen from. No doubt Chanyeol knew exactly who he was the moment they met. No doubt it was his plan all along.

Kyungsoo gritted his teeth, the anger building inside of him.

He would never trust so easily, never act so foolishly. Chanyeol had taught him an important lesson. He had tasted betrayal and he was resolute to never feel the same way again.

 

 

**_Seoul  
November 2017_ **

Kyungsoo frowned. He found the atmosphere of the ballroom gaudy and presumptuous, uncomfortable from the moment he stepped inside. Formally clad waiters ready with silver trays of hors-d'oeuvre stood at attention, a lone violinist played a soft tune to welcome guests. Outside the banquet hall there were congratulatory wreaths. Inside there were large floral arrangements in creams and crimson, matching centerpieces, and 24-carat gold rimmed place settings.

_And this was only the engagement announcement._

It seemed a bit too extravagant for the occasion, but he expected the Park family to do something of this nature. To show off, to pretend. To insist on the most expensive hotel in Seoul, with photographers waiting outside. With over the top decorations that screamed money and power and little tact, like they could cover up their origins if they threw enough cash away at every turn.

It was ridiculous, the entire thing was ridiculous, but Kyungsoo couldn’t say as much. This was business, a decision that his father, with his stern expression and infallible pride, had agreed to. It was a serious matter disguised as a frivolous romantic attachment. But it was necessary. Kyungsoo had to learn to live with the fact Park Chanyeol was engaged to his older sister, as painful as a reality as that was. As angry as it made him.

He hadn’t slept well in weeks, ever since he learned his father was even considering the idea. There were few people Kyungsoo hated as much as he hated Park Chanyeol and now he would have to call him his brother-in-law.

Kyungsoo took his place next to his parents, towards the entrance of the ballroom. Hands clasped politely, he feigned a smile. “When are the Parks arriving?” he asked his mother.

She glanced at him, he could tell she was annoyed; at his question or at something else, he wasn’t sure. His mother was sometimes as difficult to read as his father. “Anytime now.”

Joohyun, his older sister, stood in between their parents. Kyungsoo angled his head to get a peek at her, curious how she was holding up. She was shifting in her heels, a nervous habit that Kyungsoo picked up on. Of course, she was nervous, Kyungsoo thought, though it would be in her best interest to hide it.

Kyungsoo checked his watch, noting that the guests would start arriving soon. The Parks were dangerously late.

Five minutes passed before the grand ballroom doors opened, the Park family strolling in like they were right on time. Mr. Park, his salt and pepper hair and big build. Mrs. Park, much smaller than her husband, eyes crinkling as she smiled at the Do Family. Yoora, a sable fur around her shoulders, arms looped around her husband's, smiling politely. And finally, Chanyeol, too much hair product in. Tall, wide shoulders, long legs, hair dyed a shocking red. A half smile, form-fitting designer tuxedo. Every inch the walking embodiment of a rich douchebag.

The two older men greeted each other, rough gravelly voices that couldn't hide the leftover tension from a lifetime of being at each other’s throats. The mothers greeted each other much more warmly, and the children….

“You look lovely,” Yoora smiled at Joohyun, who promptly mumbled the same.

Kyungsoo could feel Chanyeol’s eyes on him. He ignored him, looking instead to where his father was talking in hushed tones with Chanyeol’s father.

The guests would start arriving any minute. A welcome diversion.

 

 

“And when will _you_ announce your engagement?” Kim Soora winked at him, her false eyelashes leaving a spot of mascara on her cheek.

Kyungsoo took a sip from his champagne flute. “Not anytime soon,” he answered drily.

“Just like your father. He waited forever,” Soora sighed. “There were so many rumors about him because he waited so long.”

“Are you harassing your nephew again?” A big burly man, one of his father’s oldest friends, approached. He put his arm around Soora, smiling fondly at her. “Go harass Joohyun, she’s the one getting married.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, she’s busy now,” Soora shot back, nodding towards where Kyungsoo’s sister stood amidst a throng of well-wishers. Kyungsoo glanced over, immediately relieved he wasn’t the center of so much attention.

Park Chanyeol stood a few steps behind her, wide smile on his face. He seemed to be basking in all the attention. Kyungsoo watched as he said something and then the small group burst out laughing in response.

Kyungsoo frowned and looked away. 

 

 

The dinner was delicious, five courses with expertly paired wine. Kyungsoo would have to send compliments to the chef.

He was seated at a table with his future in-laws and his own family. It was a strange atmosphere. His mother tried to keep things light-hearted with inconsequential conversation. His father spoke to Chanyeol’s father in a low voice, leaning in as they discussed something that apparently wasn’t meant for the rest of the table. Joohyun, still nervous, spoke mostly to Yoora about the upcoming wedding planning. Yoora’s husband, a tall Chinese man whom Kyungsoo hadn’t learned the name of, gave one-word responses the few times his wife asked him something.

And then there was Park Chanyeol, who tried to charm the entire lot of them with witty banter and compliments. He had tried to talk to Kyungsoo, but Kyungsoo had pointedly ignored him, starting a conversation with his mother and talking over him.

And maybe Chanyeol had tried to talk to him again after that, but Kyungsoo stopped paying attention. He could put on a fake smile for his sister’s sake, but he wasn't going to become friends with the Parks. Not in one night. Not when he had so many reasons to hate them. 

 

 

He sipped his brandy. It tasted nice, a soft burn in his mouth, sliding down his throat. The photographers were weaving through the crowd, snapping pictures of the luxuriously clad guests, a handful following Joohyun and Chanyeol around exclusively. At the first flashbulb, Kyungsoo retreated to the private bar tucked off the grand ballroom. He didn't feel like having his picture taken, he never did.

When he spotted Sehun approaching he set his brandy glass on the bar. It wasn’t a good sign, it couldn’t be. His best friend and right-hand-man, clad in a black suit, blonde hair slicked back, perpetually disinterested expression on his face, was not supposed to be at this party. A lot of people that worked for and with them were not supposed to be at this party. Kyungsoo had parted ways with Sehun outside the hotel, assuming they wouldn’t see each other until later that evening.

Sehun sidled up to the bar and leaned in. “You’re needed back at the company,” he whispered.

Kyungsoo nodded. “Let’s go.”

 

 

Baekhyun, Kyungsoo’s assistant, was waiting behind the wheel of the black Mercedes s550. Kyungsoo slid into the back seat, Sehun after him.

“Hey boss,” Baekhyun greeted, starting up the car. “How’s the party?”

“Boring,” Kyungsoo replied.

Sehun handed him a phone, a burner that he had started using two days ago. “Everything’s in there.”

Kyungsoo swiped open the lock screen. He had a few missed messages from associates but the only thing that mattered was the message from Sehun with the file. He opened it, scanning the four pages, smiling the further he read.

“Is he there?”

“Yeah, the boys brought him in an hour ago,” Sehun explained. “Found him trying to get a flight out, guess he figured out we were on to him.”

Kyungsoo cracked his knuckles. “Good work.”

“Hey, it was the least I could do to get you away from the party,” Sehun joked, nudging Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “It must be hell to have to celebrate with the Parks.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Kyungsoo muttered.

 

 

 

Jin’s eyes were wide, panic setting in the second Kyungsoo walked into the room. He was kneeling on the floor, hands cuffed behind him.

Kyungsoo shucked off his tuxedo jacket, folding it neatly and placing it over the office chair in the corner of the room.

“I didn’t. I––” Jin began to ramble, spit flying out of his mouth. Black and blue spots were already forming on his face, he had been roughed up bad. In Kyungsoo’s mind, he deserved it. They had received word a few days ago he was preparing to talk with the feds, to rat them all out. He had sealed his death sentence the moment he had decided to become a rat.

Kyungsoo stalked over to the man, stopping when he was a few feet away. “You know what happens to traitors.”

“I didn’t betray–”

Kyungsoo pulled the trigger before Jin even had time to spot the gun. The bullet hit him in the middle of the forehead, a wisp of smoke rising from the barrel of the silenced pistol. Jin slumped over, body going limp. Blood trickled from the wound, pooling onto the floor.

It wasn’t the first man he had shot, nor would it be the last. He had long since given up moralizing any of it. The guilt just couldn’t be mustered any longer. He did what he had to, they all did what they had to. It was survival.

Kyungsoo turned around and walked back towards the entrance. He slipped his gun into his shoulder holster. Sehun handed him his tuxedo jacket, which he slipped on, concealing the firearm.

It was time to get back to the party.

 

 

Kyungsoo returned to find that the photographers had thinned out, leaving only a couple to mingle with the guests. He waltzed back into the ballroom, nodding politely at the guests who greeted him. He grabbed another glass of champagne.

It didn't take long for his father to approach him. Kyungsoo mouthed the name _Jin_ to him, his father nodded and then stopped, turning to engage in conversation with a couple of guests.

“Enjoying the evening?”

Kyungsoo hadn’t noticed Chanyeol was beside him until he spoke.

“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo answered, sipping his champagne, swallowing down the strong feelings that Park Chanyeol elicited from him.

“Just okay?” Chanyeol moved to stand a few feet in front of him, apparently interested in a proper conversation. “I was hoping it would be more than _okay._ ”

“It’s rather extravagant for an engagement announcement,” Kyungsoo said honestly. “Which makes it tacky, to spend so much on something this simple.” It wasn’t lost on him, on his mental state, that this was the first time he had talked with Chanyeol since Jeju.

“Tacky.” Chanyeol pursed his lips. “You think it is tacky?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?” Kyungsoo took another sip of champagne. He watched Chanyeol put his hands on his hips, glancing around the room like he needed proof of Kyungsoo's opinion.

It was strange, Kyungsoo thought. A year ago, he would have done anything to be this close to Park Chanyeol. It would be perfect, he could have shot him in the gut or the head.

“You know what, I think maybe you’re right,” Chanyeol gestured lazily with his hands. “The gilding on the plates is a bit much.”

If that was supposed to be a joke, Kyungsoo wasn't laughing. Chanyeol frowned at him.

“We should have lunch sometime soon,” Chanyeol suggested.

“Why?” Kyungsoo didn’t think that sounded like a good idea.

“We’re going to be in-laws plus our businesses are merging. Don’t you think that is reason enough?” Chanyeol replied. He suddenly leaned in, taking a step towards Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo took a step back. “What is it?”

“You have something. Here.” Chanyeol reached forward, finger touching Kyungsoo's cheek for a split second. When he pulled his hand away, he held his finger up. It was a spot of blood and Kyungsoo was very aware it was not his own. It was from Jin.

“Thanks,” he muttered, looking away. He felt a measure of self-revulsion at having even dared to thank him.

“No problem.” Chanyeol walked to the nearest table and grabbed a napkin to wipe it away.

Kyungsoo took the opportunity to wander towards the nearest person he knew, an older man who had done business with his family for years. He avoided any further conversation with Chanyeol for the rest of the night.

 

 

 

Sehun dropped the stack of papers on Kyungsoo's desk. He grabbed the top one and opened it, clearing his throat. “Park Chanyeol, the only son of Chairmen Park Sungjin of Viva Pharmacies, is engaged to the only daughter of Chairman Do Dongwoo of White Star Construction. The engagement was revealed last night at a gathering at the Hotel Joseon, attended by a string of business executives, owners, and their families. It is speculated that a merger announcement will occur soon, signaling a new conglomerate with far-reaching power.”

Sehun closed and folded the paper, tossing it back on the stack. “And not one picture of you in any of the articles. Such a pity.”

Kyungsoo looked up from his laptop screen. “You read every article?”

“Skimmed. Was hoping there was at least one pic of you glaring at your future in-laws. That type of stuff gives me life.” Sehun sat on the edge of the desk, a habit that Kyungsoo loathed but long gave up trying to break Sehun of. Kyungsoo had come to understand he had to pick his battles when it came to Sehun if he wanted to get anywhere. Being best friends with someone who reported to you had its pitfalls, like expecting them to listen one hundred percent of the time.

Sehun tapped the papers. “You don’t want to know how many articles there are about the organized crime crackdown.”

No, Kyungsoo really didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to read Kim Namil’s name in print and be reminded why his entire way of life had just gotten that much more complicated.

“Still don’t get why your dad won’t let us kill him,” Sehun hummed.

“Killing a federal prosecutor is too risky,” Kyungsoo said matter-of-factly. “Especially one that is as persistent as Mr. Kim.”

He was annoyingly persistent. Kim Namil was a man on a mission. He had managed to take down two organized crime families in as many years, sidestepping the bribery that had kept them protected for decades. The man couldn’t be bought, and he had an uncanny knack for getting dirt on everyone, winning convictions with ease.

It was the reason Kyungsoo’s family’s life had taken a drastic turn. The threats they were used to, from other companies, from other gangs, was compounded by a dog-nosed prosecutor that would do anything to see them in prison. It was enough for Kyungsoo’s father to realize they weren’t as invincible as he thought. It was enough for him to decide to form an alliance. Enough for him to offer his daughter in marriage.

If the Park and Do organizations joined together, they would, by all estimates, be nearly unstoppable. The Do’s had the government contacts from decades of bid rigging, bribing the housing authority, and schmoozing with government officials. They had bought more than one senator and congressman, they had a laundry list of people who owed them favors and a longer laundry list of important men who frequented their high-class brothels. They had money, but nothing compared to the fortune the Parks brought in. The Park family had the cash, a hell of a lot of it made from drug smuggling. All of it was laundered through their front business –– a chain of popular and profitable pharmacies/corner drug stores that dotted Korea from Seoul to Busan. Together they would be less vulnerable, less likely to see everything they worked for fall around them thanks to a prosecutor who wouldn’t take no for an answer. The perfect meld of power and money.

Honestly, Kyungsoo sometimes thought killing the man would be the easier and vastly preferable route to doing business with the Parks, but he wouldn’t tell Sehun that.

Kyungsoo’s desk phone rang. Sehun reached over and pushed the speaker button, earning a dirty look from his employer.

“Yeah?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Your father wants to see you,” Baekhyun’s voice hummed from the other line. His desk was right outside of Kyungsoo’s office, it was a usual protocol for Kyungsoo’s father’s secretary to call Baekhyun with such matters, Baekhyun then relaying it to Kyungsoo.

“I’ll be right up.” Kyungsoo disconnected the call and rocked back in his chair. He turned to look out the wall of windows that made up the side of his office. It was cloudy, overcast. A shitty day. “The boys cleaned up last night, right?”

“Yeah,” Sehun confirmed. “No problems.”

“Good.” Kyungsoo sighed. “I like when there aren’t any problems.”

 

 

Kyungsoo’s office was sizeable. With Sehun’s adjoining, smaller office, as well as the offices of Kyungsoo’s team, his area took up half of the twenty-ninth floor. Still, it was nothing in comparison to the Chairman’s office.

Kyungsoo’s father spent his time on the thirty-first floor, the top of White Star Construction Corporate Headquarters. His office was a vast sprawl, marble flooring, black leather furniture, two private meeting rooms. Hidden behind the dark paneling that hugged the walls were soundproofing and material to render any bugs or listening devices useless.

He had always found his father’s office cold, impersonal. A sign of power. A place that told everyone who entered who was in charge, confirming the order of things.

Someday, Kyungsoo was told, it would all be his.

When he walked into his father’s office the day after the engagement party he found his father, Dongwoo, sitting on one of the leather couches, a familiar man seated across from him. Mr. Park, also known as Sungjin, Chanyeol’s father. In Sung, was also in the room, long legs crossed lazily, a laptop perched on his lap. Sitting next to Mr. Park was a man that Kyungsoo didn’t recognize, but he assumed was a bodyguard by his stance and dress. No matter how close their families were willing to become old habits die hard.

“Kyungsoo, sit.” His father gestured.

Kyungsoo took a seat in one of the smaller chairs, bowing to Mr. Park first. The older man nodded at him, a hint of a smile playing on his face.

“We were just discussing business,” his father explained. There were a few files on the black table that sat between the couches, neither open. “I was telling Sungjin about the Jangan deal.”

 _So there really would be nothing hidden between them_. Kyungsoo pursed his lips. The Jangan deal was new, a sprawling apartment block that the company was building. They had inflated the entire price of the job; the union leader was firmly bought. The government had cleared off blocks, courtesy of a hefty bribe and a kickback from the inflated construction price. Kyungsoo had overseen most of the deal, paid the officials, schmoozed when he had to. It was his job, after all, to see his family succeed.

“Yes. It is going well.” Kyungsoo buried his hesitation, buried the nagging feeling, the instinct that they shouldn’t be telling everything to the Parks no matter what his father said.

“We’d like to use one of the buildings, temporarily of course,” Sungjin explained. “We think it would be a prime location to store a shipment for a short period of time.”

Kyungsoo tightened his jaw. Store a shipment…drugs sitting in one of the empty apartment buildings he had worked so hard to see put up.

“The details are in there.” Sungjin nodded towards the folders. “Look them over later.” He delved into a high-level description of his idea, the logistics of storing a shipment for a limited amount of time. Kyungsoo listened, taking mental notes.

“You know,” Sungjin said once he wound down his explanation. “I envy you Dongwoo.” He gestured towards Kyungsoo.  “Your son has what it takes, I can tell.”

“And yours doesn’t?” Kyungsoo’s father raised an eyebrow at the implication. Chanyeol would be his son-in-law soon.

“Not like your son. Chanyeol spends his days buried in computers, it serves little purpose,” he laughed. “Besides, they aren’t getting married because they’re capable, Dongwoo, we both know that.”

Kyungsoo glanced at his father, noting the set of his jaw. He was pissed. Unexpectedly he cracked a smile and chuckled. “I suppose you are right, I suppose you are right.”

 

 

 

It was two days later when Kyungsoo saw his older sister, the first time since the engagement party. He was hounded into dropping by his family’s house for dinner, his mother badgering Sehun into quilting Kyungsoo into the trip.

Kyungsoo didn’t hate going home, not necessarily, but he was busy. The Jangan deal coupled with the other potential bids in the pipeline kept him working until late into the evening. Most days he left the office and went straight to a restaurant or a private club, padding the pockets of those he needed on his side. He would usually get home around one or two in the morning, then wake up four hours later to do it all over again. He was tired, exhausted, but it was a perpetual state for him. It had been like this since he was nineteen and his dad had let him start working, _really working_ , for the family business.

And there was only so many times he could tell his mother he was too busy to drop in for a proper dinner.

“Hey, she still pats my head and brings me food when I’m sick. I am a slave to that woman,” Sehun had said, shrugging when Kyungsoo accused him of being his mother’s pawn.

The Do family lived in Itaewon, a two-story white house that sat behind a stone wall, protecting them from prying eyes. It was a mixture of modern and traditional architecture, fused together to create a home that sated Kyungsoo’s mother’s dreams of luxury and his father’s need for privacy.

They had live-in servants, three of them –– all people who had worked for the family since Kyungsoo was a child. His father, for obvious reasons, made sure the household employees were trustworthy. Loyal. Wouldn’t dare question anything if they stumbled upon a scene that looked less than savory.

The elderly butler, Mr. Lee, was like a grandfather to Kyungsoo. He greeted him warmly when the young man came home, asking him how business was going while taking his coat.

“Busy. The usual.”

“Your mother is in the sitting room,” Mr. Lee informed him. “But you may have more luck talking to Joohyun, she’s in her room. The Mrs. is in a mood again.”

Kyungsoo thanked Mr. Lee, grateful he knew the family dynamic well. His mother was likely riled up about one thing or another, something Kyungsoo would no doubt hear all about over dinner. Best to shorten the length of time he had to listen to her lecture.

Joohyun’s room was on the second floor, across the hallway from Kyungsoo’s old room. They were similar in size, very different in decoration. Kyungsoo’s room was much like his current apartment. Monochrome, boring. Tidy. Joohyun’s room was a mess –– of clothing and of colors.

Kyungsoo knocked gently, waiting to hear the “come in” before he entered.

“Ah, so you caved?” Joohyun chided. She was sitting at her computer desk, typing diligently on her laptop.

“I thought mom might kill me if I said no one more time,” Kyungsoo sighed, moving to take a seat in one of the turquoise club chairs pushed towards a corner of the room.

“Good call.” Joohyun finished up what she was typing and turned around, giving her younger brother her undivided attention. “So, what have you been up to?”

“Usual.” Kyungsoo didn’t need to elaborate. Joohyun wasn’t a child, and even if she didn’t know the full extent of the family business she was aware of the darker side of it. The illegal funds that helped build the office building downtown. “How’s it feel to be engaged?”

Joohyun snorted. “I’m just glad the party is over. I thought I was going to puke I was so nervous.” Kyungsoo wanted to respond he had noticed, but he decided against it. His sister could be almost as verbally deadly as his mother if provoked.

“Too many people, too many pictures.” It was a family trait that most of them shared, this aversion to being the center of attention. “Yoora seems really nice though.”

Kyungsoo nodded. Yoora did seem nice, or at least...not worthy of as much hatred as the rest of her family. He was still on the fence about her husband, the guy looked cold, disinterested, and snobby.

“Did Chanyeol annoy you?” Kyungsoo found himself asking, perhaps deep down wanting further validation that Chanyeol was really the scum of the earth.

Joohyun shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if he did. I’m going to marry him, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Kyungsoo still hated the fact this was all happening, hated that it made sense to him why. Hated that the Jangan deal was now being rendered even riskier due to meddling by his future in-laws.

“He said he is fine with us living apart after we are married. I mean, our kids can split their time between both houses,” Joohyun said. When Kyungsoo raised his eyebrows at her words she added, “What, you thought we weren’t going to have kids?”

Kyungsoo flushed. He hadn’t really thought about it. Joohyun and Chanyeol...kids? “No... I–”

“You are still so easy to tease, Soo.” Joohyun laughed. “Way too easy to tease.”

Kyungsoo grumbled. Perhaps going to see his mother was the preferable course of action.

 

 

 

 _Or not_.

“I heard you haven’t been to see Soo Jung lately,” his mother remarked over dinner. “Is there a reason?”

Kyungsoo should have expected it. He hadn’t seen Soo Jung in over a month, it was inevitable for her mother and his mother to start talking. “I’ve been busy.”

“You’re always busy,” his mother admonished.

“I’ll see her soon, I promise.” Kyungsoo offered a sweet smile, which his mother accepted, changing the subject to his sister’s upcoming nuptials.

 

 

 

Jung Soo Jung was (as much as Sehun would argue he was the sole owner of the title) Kyungsoo’s _other_ best friend. They had known each other since they were children. Soo Jung’s father worked for Kyungsoo’s father, he was a director in the construction business. He was an insider, someone who knew about the less savory parts of the business. He had grown up in the same shithole neighborhood as Kyungsoo’s father, both down on their luck and rising to the top together. He was married to a sweet, rather demure woman who raised two daughters alongside the boss's own children. They were safe, people on the inside, people who could be trusted. Soo Jung’s father had since passed away from a chronic health issue, but her mother kept in close contact with Kyungsoo’s mother.

And both mothers had decided long ago that what better way to solidify their friendship than to see their two younger children marry. Thankfully for Kyungsoo, his father wasn’t of the same mindset– which meant he wasn’t going to be pushed into anything.

Soo Jung was beautiful. Long legs, long, sleek black hair, well-formed features, and a thin waist. She was smart, a bit shy, but funny. Genuine. Sweet.  Any person would be lucky to date her, to marry her, but Kyungsoo was not going to be that person. He had zero interest in her as more than a friend no matter how much his mother wanted him to feel something else.

But what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Soo Jung was the perfect cover and the situation was mutually beneficial. Sporadic “dates” between the two kept their mothers off their backs and let them do what they wanted, with whoever they wanted, without having to explain their love life to their parents.

It was why they met up every so often, feigning a date, eating dinner, or hanging out. They liked catching up, both were insanely busy and rarely had time to see each other anymore. If their mothers wanted to see it as a date, well that was just the icing on the cake.

Kyungsoo managed to find time to see his old friend a week after his mother had badgered him about it. They planned to meet up at a restaurant, Shadow, an expensive steak place at one of the luxury hotels in Gangnam. Kyungsoo had been there dozens of times before, it was a good place to take clients.

He arrived for dinner a little after eight. Baekhyun dropped him off outside and made Kyungsoo promise to call him for a ride if he drank too much. There were times when Kyungsoo wondered if Baekhyun was on his mother’s payroll as well.

Soo Jung had made the reservation, but he knew she wouldn’t be there, not yet.  After a brief exchange with the host, he was led to a table near the windows. He liked the restaurant for how cozy it felt despite its size. The amount of detail paid to the layout and the decor made each table feel like its own little world.

Soo Jung was twenty minutes late, which for her meant she was practically early. Kyungsoo liked her, he really did, but she had never been a very punctual person, much to his annoyance.

Kyungsoo smirked when he saw the heads turn as she walked towards their table. She really was quite beautiful, people were naturally drawn to her. It didn’t help that she looked absolutely stunning wearing a simple black A-line dress.

“You’re late,” Kyungsoo said in greeting, tapping his watch.

“Hello to you too,” she smirked, taking a seat across from Kyungsoo. “You didn’t order yet, right?”

Kyungsoo shook his head.

“Good, because we’re leaving in a minute.” Soo Jung dug into her purse, pulling out her studded cell phone.

“Do I even want to know what you have planned?” Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes at his old friend.

“The owner of this hotel is having a party,” she answered, like that would explain everything right away.

“And?”

“I might be sleeping with him,” she answered in a low voice. “Anyway, come on, you can go too. It will do you some good to take a few hours off work. Plus, we did our thing, went to a restaurant, moms are happy. Great, now let’s go have a few drinks and help my love life, shall we?”

Kyungsoo sighed. “I’m not staying long.”

“Have I told you how much I love you lately?” She made puppy dog eyes at him.

Damn those puppy dog eyes. “Fine, I’ll stay for two hours max.”

Soo Jung smiled. “Great. Let’s go.”

 

 

 

“Soo Jung.” His face practically shone when he saw her arm going out to pull her towards him. He was younger, hair dyed dirty blonde, a bit too long to look professional. He was dressed casually, in faded jeans and a form-fitting t-shirt.

On the elevator ride up Kyungsoo had learned that Kim Jongin was not the technical owner of the hotel, per se, his father was, but he oversaw it. Young, rich, with power. The way Soo Jung’s eyes lit up when she talked about him made Kyungsoo think she might be just a little in love. He hadn’t seen his friend like this since...well, _ever._

Suddenly he was standing awkwardly alone, Soo Jung forgetting he existed in favor of her lover. Kyungsoo glanced around. If a penthouse suite could be generic, this one was.  All the expected accouterments, the patterned fabric, the oversized furniture. It was rather boring, Kyungsoo thought.

The party was for someone’s birthday, Soo Jung had told him, who he had no idea. The place was crawling with well-heeled young men and women, rich young things that probably made plenty of poor life decisions that forced their parents to bail them out time and time again.

“This is my friend, Do Kyungsoo. White Star Construction.” Soo Jung hadn’t forgotten him after all. She guided Jongin forward, her arm looped through his.

Kim Jongin smiled warmly.

“Hello,” Kyungsoo bowed in greeting.

“Hi. What a small world,” Jongin had a megawatt smile, his eyes crinkling up as he grinned. “I think you know my best friend.”

“I do?” Kyungsoo asked dumbly.

“Chanyeol!” Jongin shouted, “Get out here!”

Kyungsoo tensed at the name. Much to his horror Park Chanyeol arrived a minute later, same douchey countenance as at the engagement party. Red hair, slicked back, confident stride. He spotted Kyungsoo and smiled. “Do Kyungsoo. What a nice surprise.”

The feeling was not mutual.

“I had no idea you knew the Parks,” Soo Jung said slowly, looking at Jongin.

“ _One_ Park,” Jongin corrected her. “Chanyeol and I were at the same school together. I was at the engagement party, but I don’t think I got to say hello.” He directed his attention back to Kyungsoo. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Wasn’t the standard response something along the lines of ‘ _I hope it was all good things’_? Kyungsoo wasn’t having any of it. “From who?”

“Chanye–” Jongin started but was interrupted by Chanyeol.

“You want a drink?” he asked Kyungsoo, leveling his gaze on his future brother-in-law.

“He does,” Soo Jung interjected, smiling sweetly at Kyungsoo. “He likes pinot noir.”

“Coming right up.” Chanyeol retreated towards another part of the penthouse, leaving Kyungsoo to give his best friend a dirty look.

“Relax and have fun for a couple hours, you need it,” she leaned in and reminded him before slipping away with Jongin on her arm.

Kyungsoo sighed.

 

 

 

It was a carefully crafted illusion. Respectability, legitimacy. Sending their children to private schools alongside the kids whose parents make their money honestly. Pretending that the mansion they lived in, the billion won apartment they owned, was just as righteously earned as the ones on either side.

It was how Park Chanyeol ended up with trust fund babies as best friends. It was how Kyungsoo could spout off a long list of upstanding young executives he networked with. It was how both of them, deep down, knew they couldn’t trust the people on the right side of the law because they never would really understand what it was like to live such a life. _To pretend_. To hide behind a mask, to know what your family really did to make their fortune.

It is why people like Sehun, like Soo Jung, were so important. They understood. They knew the real Kyungsoo, his real past. They knew what he did for a living and they accepted that.

It was why he couldn’t even begin to explain his hatred for the Park family to most people. They would have no context, no clue why it mattered. But it did matter. It mattered very much. For several reasons.

“Here.” Chanyeol held out the wine glass, urging Kyungsoo take it.

“Thanks.” Kyungsoo had decided he would finish the glass and then go, the sooner he could escape spending time with Chanyeol the better.

“They’re crazy about each other,” Chanyeol nodded towards where Jongin and Soo Jung had walked off. “I’ve never seen him so whipped before.”

Kyungsoo took a sip of wine. It was delicious, the aroma was perfection. “Excuse me.” He side-stepped Chanyeol, walking past him, further into the penthouse. He might not know anyone at the party aside from Soo Jung and Chanyeol, but he would make friends if that meant not having to talk to his future brother-in-law.

Chanyeol stopped him with a hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “I want to talk to you about something.”

Kyungsoo shrugged his hand off. “No.”

“It’s about your sister.”

Kyungsoo tightened his hold on his glass. He doubted Chanyeol would leave him alone. He could be terribly persistent, Kyungsoo knew it from experience. “I’ll give you five minutes.” He regretted it as soon as he said it.

“Come with me.” Chanyeol started towards the front door of the penthouse. When Kyungsoo didn’t follow he turned back and explained, “I have my own apartment here. It is safer if we talk there.”

He could understand this. It was one of those things. One of those things that people on the right side of the law wouldn’t understand. But Kyungsoo did. He had a lot to hide, so did Chanyeol.

 

 

 

Chanyeol’s apartment was as relentlessly gaudy as its owner. It was a few floors under the owner’s penthouse, a suite of rooms that had probably seen far too many late-night bouts of revelry if the sporadic stains on the carpeting were anything to go by.

Kyungsoo eyed the furniture, felt like it was probably safer to stand than sit. One half of the living room was dominated by computers, monitors mounted to the wall, enough to make Kyungsoo’s head spin. The elder Park had commented on Chanyeol’s love of computers, but it really wasn’t news to Kyungsoo. He had known from experience the Park family had that kind of son, the type of son who could decrypt a bank account and steal in a matter of minutes. Memories were drudged up by those computer screens and for a second Kyungsoo considered turning and stalking out, giving up on any kind of conversation with Chanyeol. 

“What about my sister?”

Chanyeol leaned against the back of the couch, arms folded against his chest. “They found a body floating in the Han River yesterday. Hands and feet were cut off, bullet hole to the forehead.  Special Prosecutor Kim Namil has information that it is one of your guys.”

 _Jin._ Kyungsoo remained quiet, but internally he was cursing whoever had botched the disposal job.  Sehun had said it was all taken care of. _Fuck_.

“It’s only a matter of time before he connects it back to you and your family with the way he is sniffing every lead in this damn city.”

“You’re marrying my sister so this doesn’t get out of hand, I fail to see how one body is going to bring either family down, much less when they are merged together.” Kyungsoo kept his emotions in check. _Marrying his sister._ Why did saying it out loud sting so much?

“Maybe not, but perhaps it will if the wedding never takes place,” Chanyeol answered, sounding overly confident.

“Are you breaking the engagement?” Kyungsoo questioned. He would kill Chanyeol if he decided to be so flippant, to destroy the plan that his father had stooped so low in agreeing to.

“Not exactly.” Chanyeol unfolded his arms, fiddling with his cufflinks, adjusting his sleeves. “I think we both don’t want this wedding to take place. The only reason our fathers agreed to it is Kim Namil. You help me take him down, and the engagement can be called off.”

Kyungsoo snorted. “You talk like it is an easy thing to do.” Memories of Chanyeol’s father calling him incompetent rang in Kyungsoo’s ears. “Kim Namil has the city by the balls. He can’t be bribed and we can’t kill him.”

“There isn’t a person alive who can’t be bribed,” Chanyeol countered. “Including Kim Namil. He’s biting at the heels of every gangster that will talk to him, trying to get them to turn state’s evidence. He might seem like he holds all the cards, but no one is that infallible.”

Kyungsoo considered the proposal. “What makes you think we can take him down if our fathers aren’t even willing to try?”

“Because we always made a good team, _Soo_.”

At the sound of his nickname, Kyungsoo stiffened. He hadn’t heard Chanyeol use that name in years, it left a bad taste in his mouth. “Just marry my sister, Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo turned to leave, setting the wine glass down on the hall table. He would shoot Soo Jung a text to let her know he left.  If he stayed a minute longer with Chanyeol he couldn’t be responsible for his actions. His fingers itched to reach for his gun, to hurt the man who had hurt him so badly years before.

“Think about it. You know how to contact me,” Chanyeol called after him.

 

 

 “Wakey wakey.”

Kyungsoo groaned, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow. Someone was slapping at his legs. _Someone annoying_. “Let me sleep,” he whined.

“How much did you drink last night? For fucks sake, it’s already seven.” Someone like Oh Sehun, who had the code to his apartment and used it whenever he felt like it.

Kyungsoo bolted up, hands going to his eyes, rubbing vigorously. “It’s seven?! Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?!” His alarm must not have gone off. Shit, shit, he had to get to the office.

“Uh, because I don’t get up earlier than you, _ever_. And you’re always up by now.” Sehun sighed. “Judging by the empty wine bottle in your living room I am guessing you got trashed and forgot to set your alarm.”

Kyungsoo scrambled out of bed, tossing the covers off and rushing to grab his clothes. Shit, he needed to shower yet. He knew he shouldn’t have drank when he got home the night before, but there was a lot on his mind and he just needed something to take the edge off.

“You owe Baekhyun an apology, he thought you’d been kidnapped or something,” Sehun called after him.

Kyungsoo suddenly stopped, remembering his conversation with Chanyeol. He spun around and stalked back towards Sehun. “They found Jin.”

Sehun paled. “Shit.”

“You better take care of whoever fucked this job up,” Kyungsoo ordered. They might be friends, but both men never forgot how they ranked, the hierarchy that dictated their lives.

Sehun nodded solemnly. He had no place to argue. “Sorry, boss.”

“Just don’t let it happen again,” Kyungsoo called over his shoulder, walking back towards the shower.

 

 

“In Sung is with him,” Sehun explained. The elevator stopped at the twenty-second floor, the doors sliding open to reveal an employee who Kyungsoo didn’t recognize. He nodded politely and pushed the close-door button the moment she stepped on.

“When did he ask for me?” Kyungsoo questioned. The only thing worse than getting into the office late was getting in late _and_ making his father wait for him.

“Fifteen minutes ago, so he shouldn’t kill you this time,” Sehun answered.

Kyungsoo glanced at the employee. She had her eyes trained straight ahead. He could tell she was nervous, her hands clasped in front, shoulders stiff.

“Do you know what it is about?”

The door opened, letting the woman off on the twenty-seventh floor.

“Nope. Good luck though.” Sehun patted Kyungsoo on the shoulder, waiting for the elevator to stop at the twenty-ninth floor. “Just tell him you got stuck in traffic or something.”

Kyungsoo nodded. Right. Stuck in traffic.

He could do this.

 

 

In Sung sat at the long conference table, a steaming cup of tea in front of him. Kyungsoo’s father was on edge, it was evident in his posture, in the way he was leaning forward at the head of the table, a stack of files in front of him.

Kyungsoo shuffled in, muttering an excuse about traffic.

“Did you review the files from Park?” his father interrupted him, leveling him with a challenging gaze.

Kyungsoo had read the files, he had considered the proposal, weighed the pros and cons. “It’s a bad deal. We don’t need to add the complication to the Jangan Project, it is already risky enough as it is. Letting Park store illicit cargo will only act to make the place a target for any enemies Park has, not to mention if our own operation is discovered we will take the fall.” Kyungsoo sat down across from In Sung, taking the cup of tea that the lawyer pushed his way. “He is transferring all risk on us. I don’t think we should trust him.”

His father remained quiet for a few seconds, mulling over his opinion. “I suppose I should have made it clear this isn’t open to negotiation. We are going to allow for the storage. What I need is you to figure out how it’s going to happen.”

Kyungsoo nodded. He had a gift, Sehun liked to tell him. He wouldn’t betray a hint of emotion, especially around his father. Part of it was out of fear, part of it out of blind respect. Part of it was learned behavior, a lifetime of knowing when not to blink, when not to take chances.  He didn’t flinch when his opinion was discarded. “Understood.”

“I want you to go over to Park’s warehouse today and see for yourself what we are dealing with. I expect the logistics to be figured out by the end of this week, so we can move on to other matters.”

Kyungsoo’s plate was already full. He was in the process of acquiring a swath of land to the south, working through the bidding scam to claim the prize. He had a pipeline of other deals to consider, not to mention there had been issues with the crew under him lately, namely Jin’s willingness to talk to the feds. But he wasn’t going to complain. “I’ll have it in by Friday.”

“Good.” Mr. Do offered a rare smile. “I knew I could count on you.”

 

 

 

In Sung had volunteered to accompany him to the Park’s warehouse, which Kyungsoo was grateful for. If there was anyone in the organization he could be honest with it was In Sung.

“You don’t trust them either,” Kyungsoo surmised on the ride over.

They were in Kyungsoo’s s550, Baekhyun behind the wheel. Sehun sat next to Kyungsoo, scrolling on his tablet. A sports radio station was on, Kyungsoo always allowed Baekhyun listen to whatever he wanted. It was all background noise to him.

In Sung exhaled sharply. “Your father isn’t stupid, Kyungsoo. He has a plan if he is agreeing to all of this. You must remember what is at stake right now. The entire operation could be taken down.”

“Kim Namil. Yeah, I am aware. That doesn’t mean we should be making rash decisions though.” Kyungsoo stared out the window, watching the salarymen and women enjoying their lunch hour at one of the outside cafes.

“They found a body in the Han river yesterday,” In Sung said slowly.

Kyungsoo could see Sehun look at him out of the corner of his eye.

“It still isn’t a reason to blindly trust a family that has been gunning for us for the last three decades. They can pull a hundred fucking bodies from the river and that isn’t going to change the past. An engagement isn’t going to make everything go away.” Kyungsoo looked In Sung in the eyes. “So just admit that you don’t trust them either.”

“Fine, I don't trust them.” In Sung shifted in his seat. “But I trust your father.”

“So do I,” Kyungsoo countered. “Just not about this. I think he is being blinded by fear.”

“Then you should have said something,” In Sung challenged. “You never speak your mind around him. If you explained your reasoning perhaps he would listen. You can’t close everything off forever Kyungsoo. You can’t be the follower when he wants you to become a leader someday.”

Kyungsoo snorted. “You argue with my dad first, then I’ll consider it.”

The only response from the lawyer was a heavy sigh.

 

 

 

The largest Seoul warehouse owned by the Park family was legitimate; it held product for their pharmacies and corner stores. It was the smaller grouping of warehouses, in a less traveled district, that had the more lucrative product. The place was well guarded, a bevy of security cameras, of discreetly armed guards. Badge scanners, fingerprint scanners – the amount of security was warranted when the merchandise stored inside was worth millions.

They were met by one of the Park family associates, a twenty-something that looked both too young and far too wholesome to be showing them around a warehouse filled with drugs. He looked more like he belonged on a golf course, handing out overpriced drinks and chatting up the old men who complained their golf carts were too slow.

“Kim Junmyeon, nice to meet you.” He flashed his pearly whites and shook hands with everyone in the party. He wore a sweater vest, a tacky ugly looking thing that had Sehun rolling his eyes and cracking jokes behind his back.

He was cheerful as he led them through the maze of storage cages, making small talk about the scale of their operation.

“The stuff that we need your help with is stored in the back,” he explained, directing them towards several shipping containers, padlocked from the outside. He took a keyring out from his pocket and approached the closest container. “We can move them via truck, but they are going to need to be stored somewhere dark.”

Junmyeon struggled to pull open the doors to the container, a slightly comical sight all things considered. When the doors finally clanged back stacks of tightly stacked packages were revealed. The container was full, packed to the brim.

“We can move them in one go, but will wait for word on when works for you.”

Kyungsoo wanted to answer “Never” but he held back.

Junmyeon patted a few of the bundles, rambling on about the strength of the packaging.

Footsteps echoed behind them, directing Kyungsoo’s attention back towards the path they had traversed. Park Chanyeol was sauntering towards them, that annoying half-smirk forming when he saw Kyungsoo.

“So you decided to come get the grand tour, I see,” Chanyeol said. “Good thinking since we’ll be one big happy family soon.”

Kyungsoo bristled at his words but he didn’t show it.

“Mr. Park,” In Sung bowed slightly to the younger man.

“Chanyeol, Jisoo is finishing up with the paperwork.” Junmyeon stepped forward, looking flustered. “I didn’t realize it was already time for––”

“I’ll be back later for it. I stopped by to see my future brother-in-law.” Chanyeol stood a few feet from Kyungsoo. He could almost swear Chanyeol was standing stick straight, trying to appear even taller than he already was. It was annoying. “We need to talk.”

“I’m busy,” Kyungsoo answered firmly.

“It’s about your sister.” He was a broken record of the night before. Kyungsoo didn’t have time for it.

“Talk to her about any issues you may have.” Kyungsoo turned to Junmyeon. “If there is nothing else to see here then we will be going. Thank you for the tour.”

Junmyeon looked between Chanyeol and Kyungsoo. His face was flush with embarrassment or anxiety, Kyungsoo wasn’t sure which. “Ah, yes. Thank you. Right this way.”

Kyungsoo brushed past Chanyeol without a glance.

He didn’t have time to entertain his foolish ideas. Not now.

 

 

“I’m surprised his father even let him know the location of the warehouse, to be honest,” In Sung commented once they were back in the car, headed towards the White Star Construction offices. “He seems to lack confidence in him.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Sehun said sarcastically. “Big scary technology and computers and all that. From what I hear the old man thinks he is worshiping Satan every time he logs onto a pc.”

“Do you have the files about Mr. Yoo,” Kyungsoo asked Sehun, changing the subject.

“Already delivered.” Sehun held his tablet up, waving it in Kyungsoo’s face. “I also have a new prospect for our financial issues scoped out. You underestimate me, Soo.”

“I estimate you correctly,” Kyungsoo deadpanned. “In case you have forgotten, you’re the person who once tried to microwave a can of soup and set our break room on fire.”

“It happened one time!” Sehun whined.

“Yeah.  You tried to burn our building down, _one time!”_

In Sung chuckled at the two friend’s antics.

The car slowed, Baekhyun maneuvering the vehicle into a parking spot.

“Why are you stopping?” Kyungsoo leaned forward, looking towards the driver.

Baekhyun turned and put his finger to his lips, then tapped the dashboard. A green light flickered on the console.

“Time for lunch,” Kyungsoo announced, his voice not betraying a hint of what was going on. Next to him Sehun was glaring at the flickering light, while In Sung slipped his phone back in his suit coat pocket.

“Lunch it is,” the lawyer sighed, reaching for the door handle.

They alighted the vehicle, hailing a taxi back to the office a few minutes later.

 

 

Kyungsoo clenched and unclenched his fists. He paced towards the window, trying to control his anger.

“On a scale of the OSS to the KGB it is a DGSE.” Yesung held up the tracking device, rolling it on his fingers. “Over a million satellite correlators, bounces off cell towers too. Accurate up to one foot with reporting to the millisecond. Not too shabby. I mean, I wouldn’t use it but it does the job.”

“How long has it been there?” Kyungsoo asked. The green flickering light on the dashboard meant one thing. A tracking/listening device had been planted on his vehicle. He wanted to believe that Yesung, his family’s chief source of technology –– both legitimate and not so legitimate, built a very sensitive receiver into his vehicle but he needed to be sure.

“It was done at the warehouse, no doubt about that. Makes me realize I really should install more than one visual alarm. That driver of yours isn’t the sharpest crayon in the box.”

Kyungsoo closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. His car had been bugged at the warehouse, which left only a select number of people who could have possibly done it. He knew the Parks were not to be trusted.

“I hacked the signal, so it will throw off your movements. They won’t be any the wiser.” Yesung threw the tracker up in the air, catching it in his palm. “Mind if I keep this?”

“Sure,” Kyungsoo waved him away.

“Thanks.”

Yesung stood and walked towards the door. He stopped a few steps from the exit. “I think it is police issue, by the way. Clumsy as usual. Fucking cops.”

Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes. “Police issue?”

“Yeah. They have a tendency to do stupid shit with decent technology.” Yesung shrugged. “Seems about right coming from a government agency.”

The police. _A prosecutor_. Perhaps his anger was misdirected.

 

 

Kyungsoo lifted the liquor bottle, pouring it at an angle. Mr. Yoo beamed, smiling at the cup. “You’re a polite kid, you know. Manners maketh the man.” He laughed before raising the cup to his lips, the laughter sounding of an old man who smoked too many cigarettes.

“Thank you.” Kyungsoo bowed his head, setting the bottle down with the utmost care. He glanced to his left, where Sehun was sitting chatting up one of the other housing officials, another older man who was laughing in his cups.

They were at a traditional restaurant, a little place tucked into an unassuming corner of Seongbuk. The meeting with Mr. Yoo had been booked weeks in advance, even if Kyungsoo was unsettled by the incident earlier in the day he couldn’t cancel the engagement.

“I am envious of your golf game, Mr. Yoo.” Kyungsoo smiled, grabbing his cup and turning his head to drink.

“Ahhhh, how much so?” Mr. Yoo asked the lilt in his speech indicating his level of inebriation.

“If you can teach me I would be very grateful,” Kyungsoo answered. It was all code, all meant to indicate the level of payment he would be transferring to Mr. Yoo’s bank account. Money well spent, securing their next big project, keeping as many people off their backs as possible.

“I would love to,” Mr. Yoo smiled, laughing loudly at the knowledge he would receive a handsome sum of money from the Do family in exchange for his cooperation.

“I need to use the restroom. Please excuse me.” Kyungsoo bowed again, getting up from the table as carefully as he could. He was a little tipsy, not terribly, but he was feeling a slight buzz from the shots of liquor.

He slid open the door and stepped into the hallway. Music and voices filtered from the other private dining rooms, likely company outings, employees trailing after bosses who were reluctant to slink back home to the family they rarely saw.

Kyungsoo padded down the hall, finding the restroom at the end. He ducked inside, heading to the closest urinal. The bathroom was deserted.

The door opened while he was relieving himself. He finished, zipping up his pants and heading for the sink.

“Mr. Do.”

Kyungsoo turned to see a man standing near the door, hands in his coat pockets. He was dressed in a grey, three-piece suit, wrinkles in his suit coat.  Black hair styled away from his face, wide eyes. Full cheeks. He looked a little different than the pictures but close enough.

_Special Prosecutor Kim Namil._

“Do you have a few minutes to chat?”

Kyungsoo kept his emotions in check, his expression staid. He walked to the sink and turned on the faucet. “I am having dinner with a friend at the moment, can this wait?”

“It could,” Namil mused. His voice was lilting, high in pitch. “But I doubt you want it to.”

 _The tracker on his car_. The listening device. He had mentioned Mr. Yoo before he knew it was there, of course, Kim Namil had taken that clue to track him down, to trap him into speaking with him.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Kyungsoo said quietly, lathering his hands up with soap.

The hot water ran over his knuckles, the soap foaming near the drain. He rubbed his hands together, the water pouring over the simple silver ring he wore on his left hand.

“Yesterday a body was pulled from the Han river. Today I learned a thing or two about White Star Construction. Tomorrow...well, who knows what tomorrow will bring.”

Kyungsoo shut off the faucet, flinging the water by shaking his hands. He reached for the towels. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Hmm. Well then perhaps the name Park Chanyeol rings a bell?”

Kyungsoo dried his hands vigorously. “Of course, it does, he is engaged to my sister.”

“Ah, right. I meant to elaborate. Park Chanyeol, five years ago. Was it Jeju or do I have that all wrong? I could have sworn that the hotel records listed you both there at the same time. Ah, and of course there was a very helpful housekeeper that told me you used to share a room at night. I couldn’t be mistaken, could I?” Namil drawled.

Kyungsoo’s heart rate spiked, his anxiety crashing over him. But he didn’t dare show it. He could control it, he was good at that. He turned, tossing the paper towel into the wastebasket. He fixed the special prosecutor with a bored expression. “I’m terribly sorry sir, but you seem to be confused about something.”

How he even thought to look at hotel registers, how he had even known when Kyungsoo was in Jeju, the thought terrified Kyungsoo. He did his best not to show it.

“I don’t think I am.” Namil shook his head. “You have a chance, be grateful for it.” He didn’t bat an eyelash as he spoke. “If you testify you, your mother and your sister will be immune from prosecution. If you don’t, I can’t guarantee that your father won’t find out about what happened between you and Park Chanyeol.”

Kyungsoo smiled. “I really have no idea what you are talking about...”

“No, you do know. I am giving you a chance. Think about it.” Namil reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a business card. He held it towards Kyungsoo. “I’ll give you some time to think about it. I can keep the damage to your family minimal, or at least your overall reputation. If you are against cooperating, your father may not be the only one who knows of your past.”

Kyungsoo stared at the card, then turned away. He reached for the door handle, leaving the restroom and the persecutor without a backward glance.

 

 

Mr. Yoo staggered towards the car, laughing and joking as he leaned his weight into Sehun.

“We could go golfing sometime,” Mr. Yoo slurred, head rubbing on Sehun’s shoulder.

Mr. Yoo’s driver helped him the rest of the way into the car, thanking Sehun for his assistance.

“I’ll be right back, need to make a call,” Kyungsoo said when Sehun approached him. “Meet me in the car.”

Sehun knew enough not to ask questions.

Kyungsoo moved towards the far corner of the restaurant exterior, out of earshot of the customers who were coming and going. He pulled out his cellphone, taking a deep breath before he punched in the number.

He picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“I’m in,” Kyungsoo spoke, swallowing after he said it, a lump forming in his throat.

A moment of silence. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“I knew I could count on you,” Chanyeol husked from the other end of the line. “We can meet to talk about it more tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight, Soo.”

“Goodnight.” Kyungsoo disconnected the call, cradling the phone in his palm. Behind him, the sound of drunken revelry, of company dinners that went late into the night, of schmoozing, of stupid confessions, of bad karaoke, filtered out of the restaurant. In front of him was the dark sidewalk. Street lights, a few pedestrians. Cars driven by designated or for-hire drivers. Somewhere a few miles away the lights would still be on in some of the offices at White Star, employees who had no idea what the company was built on, what they really did, slaving away. Somewhere further afield armed guards patrolled the warehouses the Park family owned. And somewhere, lost in the mess was a prosecutor who was out for blood.

He felt like he had betrayed himself, agreeing to work with Chanyeol. He hated him, would always hate him. But he couldn’t let what happened years before get out, no, that was the greater of two evils. He could suck it up, work with Chanyeol for a short duration if the end result was never having to see him again. He could do this, he had to.

Kyungsoo slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket and turned around, walking towards his car.

“Let’s go home,” he said to Sehun. “Let’s go home.”

Kyungsoo scrolled through his messages with one hand, his other hand occupied with his lunch.

_Do you have time to go shopping later? I don’t want to go alone._

The text was from Joohyun. Kyungsoo smiled. It was too perfect.

_I’m busy but I’ll send Sehun and Baekhyun around 6._

He had been racking his brain on how he would get rid of the both of them that evening. Sehun was his constant shadow and he rarely went anywhere without Baekhyun driving him. It would immediately raise suspicions if he told them they were not needed, then disappeared for a few hours while he met Chanyeol.

_:( Whatever_

Kyungsoo smiled at his phone. His sister would give him shit but she would go along with it. She knew Sehun almost as well as Kyungsoo did and despite their near-constant bickering, they were friends.

“What are you so happy about?” Speaking of the devil. Sehun strolled into Kyungsoo’s office, hands in his pockets.

“You’re taking Joohyun shopping. Baek can drive,” Kyungsoo said, putting his phone down and taking a bite of his sandwich.

“And what are you going to be doing?” Sehun questioned.

“What the fuck do I ever do? Work,” Kyungsoo answered through chews.

“How am I friends with someone so boring, seriously.” Sehun clucked his tongue.

“Because I pay you,” Kyungsoo answered.

“Ah right, that helps.”

 

 

 

It was a tiny house in an older neighborhood, the type of place where people didn’t ask questions as long as you didn’t bother them. A neighbor’s dog barked and rushed, chain yanking the animal back when Kyungsoo walked past.

He had ditched his suit for jeans, a t-shirt, and a coat, his pistol still tucked into his shoulder holster. He would draw less attention in casual clothes, be less likely to have anyone question why he was walking into the house that usually sat vacant.

The code for the door changed periodically, always after the cleaning person came. That insured only Kyungsoo had the code. He punched in the number and pushed the door open, hand searching along the wall for the light switch.

His father had taught him to have things like this. A safe house, a place to go if shit ever hit the fan. It was one of a few that he owned, that no one knew about, not even Sehun or his father. As of today, only one other person knew of it, and that person was Park Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo needed a safe place where they could meet. Divulging the location of one of his safe houses wasn’t ideal, but it would work. No one else could find him here, no one else would look for him here. No one else would catch him meeting alone with Park Chanyeol to discuss a topic that his father absolutely could not find out about.

He settled in, knowing Chanyeol would be late. The only furniture in the safe house was a few cheap pieces, a couch, a chair, a dining table. In the small bedroom, there was a twin bed. The bare essentials. If a time ever came where he needed more than that in this place his life would inevitably have become hell.

There was a knock on the door at half past seven. Kyungsoo shuffled towards the door, checking the peephole. Chanyeol stared back, knowing he would look.

“Is this where you keep your mistress?’ Chanyeol asked once the door was opened. “Shit, Soo you could at least put her in a safer neighborhood.”

“Shut up.” Kyungsoo padded back towards the sofa.

Chanyeol toed off his dress shoes. He was dressed like Kyungsoo had been before he changed into something more casual, in an expensive suit that cut a clean form around the office. He preferred dark colors, blacks, and greys. Kyungsoo could admit he was marginally jealous of how tall Chanyeol was, how clothes fit him better than they could ever fit Kyungsoo. He would never admit that out loud, of course. It teetered on the dangerous side, the side where Kyungsoo still admitted Chanyeol was attractive. That he was attracted to him.

Kyungsoo sat back on the sofa, crossing his legs and folding his hands around his knees. He wanted to get the meeting over a quickly as possible. Chanyeol walked into the living room, taking the only other seating option, the black and red printed chair. He had a briefcase with him, which he set on the floor.

“I want to hear your plan,” Kyungsoo started. “Assuming you have one.”

Chanyeol snorted. “You really don’t think much of me, do you?”

Kyungsoo shrugged. It would probably be too much to admit he hated him outright.

“Fine, fine. But first, tell me what made you change your mind?” Chanyeol sat on the edge of the seat, leaning forward, hands clasped together. He looked eager, hyper even.

“I didn’t change my mind, I just made my final decision,” Kyungsoo wasn’t going to tell Chanyeol about his run-in with Kim Namil. He wasn’t going to dredge up old memories or make Chanyeol think he was doing it all because of a threat. That information was best kept away from Chanyeol for multiple reasons. It was too painful to recount, it was an added complexity that didn’t need to be shared…it was something Kyungsoo had worked hard to forget.

“Fair enough.” Chanyeol reached for his briefcase, taking a file out and holding it up. “Kim Namil, top of his class at Yonsei University.  Volunteers to help the elderly every weekend. The youngest special prosecutor in South Korean history, spotless record. Likes soft jazz music and American food.” He stood up and tossed the file towards Kyungsoo, who managed to catch it. “Father is deceased, heart attack at thirty-eight. Mother remarried to some guy who owns a barbeque in Haebongchon. No run-ins with the law, clean and simple life.”

Kyungsoo opened the folder, flipping through the documents. Kim Namil’s transcripts, his birth certificate, his driving records. Chanyeol had been thorough

“He lives in an apartment near the prosecutor’s office. Works sixty plus hours a week doesn’t have cable.” Chanyeol paused.  “He isn’t without flaws, however.”

Kyungsoo looked up from the file. “What?”

“He’s gay,” Chanyeol answered.

Kyungsoo stiffened, shoulders tensing.

“For someone like him, it’s a flaw we can exploit for our own gain. He rarely does it, but he watches porn and goes into chat rooms. He is trying to hide it, but I managed to pick up the information from his browsing logs.”

“Why hide it, he’d be fine admitting it. Fuck, gay marriage is even legal now,” Kyungsoo remarked. It didn’t seem like something that they could use to take him down, not when their society was slowly shifting towards acceptance.

“It might be legal but that doesn’t mean the prosecutors office is as accepting as the people who voted to legalize gay marriage,” Chanyeol pointed out. “It’s run by a bunch of prejudiced old men. One word of Namil being gay and every promotion he could ever deserve goes out the window.”

Kyungsoo sighed. “It might be easier just to kill him.” In fact, he had thought about it. If they could stage a car accident or kidnap him, make him disappear, the problem could be easily solved. “I fail to see how we are going to take him out by knowing he watches gay porn once a year.”

“He’s more valuable to us alive than dead. Once he’s on our side, we have an ally. If he’s dead another young moron with an expensive degree will take his place.” Chanyeol made a good point.

Kyungsoo pursed his lips, staring at the file. “What do we do?”

“You guys still have that place near Cheongnyangni Station?”

Kyungsoo nodded. It wasn’t something he took an active hand in running, it was more Sehun’s father and his crew’s forte. It kept Kyungsoo, and the Do’s name out of it, at least at first glance.  An upscale brothel that catered to an exclusive list of politicians, celebrities, movers, and shakers couldn’t be connected to the second largest construction firm in Korea.

“Pick your best guy and we’ll send him after Namil. All it takes is for them to be in a hotel room together and the deal is done.”

Kyungsoo looked up from the file, locking eyes with Chanyeol. He hated him, he hated the darkness, the rawness in those eyes. Why should he even dare trust him? But the alternative was more painful, more damaging. He could do this, to save himself. To save his father finding out what had occurred years ago. To get rid of the Park family for good. To destroy the foolish prosecutor who thought he could dare blackmail him.

“I’ll find someone,” Kyungsoo said. “But how do we know he will take the bait? “

“We all have needs, Kyungsoo. Even Namil.” Chanyeol answered slowly without breaking eye contact.

There was a meaning behind Chanyeol’s words, memories that crept up in Kyungsoo’s mind. Things he wanted to forget.

He closed the file, tossing it back to Chanyeol, who fumbled to catch it. He wished he hadn’t had to make a deal with the likes of Chanyeol, the memories he had suppressed for so long had a pesky way of coming back to him at the worst times.

“Why do you want this engagement broken?” Kyungsoo dared to ask. Part of him hoped to hear certain words, part of him was afraid if he didn’t.

“I have someone else I am planning on marrying,” Chanyeol answered without missing a beat.

Kyungsoo felt his chest tighten. “The sooner we get this done and over with the better.” He stood. “I’ll find someone tomorrow and we can go from there.”

“Drop by my apartment tomorrow evening and we can discuss the plan in more detail,” Chanyeol said.

Kyungsoo grunted a reply. Chanyeol didn’t make a move. He looked up at Kyungsoo, a smile playing on his lips. “Leaving so soon?”

Kyungsoo scowled. “Yes.”

“I thought we could go grab dinner or a few drinks.”

Kyungsoo stalked past him, not answering. He picked up Chanyeol’s loafers and tossed them to him. “I’ve got more important things to do.”

He reached for his own shoes, bending down to slip them on. When he stood he saw Chanyeol out of the corner of his eye, approaching.

“What about you? Are you seeing anyone?” Chanyeol asked.

“Is that any of your business?” Kyungsoo glared at him. The nerve of Park Chanyeol to ask such a thing. It made his blood boil.

Chanyeol was trying to charm him, flashing a lazy smile. It made Kyungsoo want to pull out his pistol and put a bullet in the taller man’s kneecap. “I guess it isn’t any of my business.”

Kyungsoo turned towards the door but Chanyeol was faster. He moved past him, leaning his weight against the closed door, acting as a barricade. He crossed his long legs, body relaxing against the frame.

“Move,” Kyungsoo demanded.

“Have dinner with me,” Chanyeol replied, all but pouting.

Kyungsoo stepped forward, Chanyeol involuntarily flinching. It was a smart move on his part, a second later Kyungsoo delivered a punch to his stomach.

Chanyeol doubled over, moving away from the door.

“Goodnight, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo called over his shoulder, opening the door and stepping out into the night.

 

 

 

 

“How has business been at Sapphires?” Kyungsoo asked over coffee. He was in his office, Sehun perched on the edge of his desk, running through his usual morning routine of annoying the shit out of Kyungsoo.

Sehun narrowed his eyes at his boss. “Good. Why?”

“I need you to do me a favor.” Kyungsoo had debated how or if he should drag Sehun into his plan with Chanyeol but he saw no other way about it. He needed Sehun to hook him up with a prostitute at the brothel, it was easier than trying to do it himself and getting caught. If he went behind Sehun’s back then his best friend would know something fishy was going on. It was better to make up a lie and be upfront and ask him for help. “There’s an official and he has a certain taste in men. It would be a house call, extra pay. Who’s the best guy you have? Someone that won’t talk.”

Sehun looked thoughtful. “There are a few I could get. Young, old, in between?”

“Younger,” Kyungsoo answered.

“Okay, then I have someone in mind. When do you need him? I don’t remember seeing a meeting with an official on your schedule in the next few days” Of course Sehun knew all of his meetings, it was his job too.

“I’ll let you know.” Kyungsoo had to make up an excuse, but he would figure that out when the time came. “How was shopping with Joohyun?”

Sehun rolled his eyes. “I swear to god your sister’s purpose in life is to spend money and drive me insane.”

Kyungsoo chuckled. “Right. She was only born in the high hopes that she could annoy you…”

“Exactly. See, you get it.” Sehun nodded. “Versace didn’t have the dress she wanted, and then there were the shoes. And the purses. And whatever in the hell else she could dream up while we made laps around the mall. It was fucking insane.”

Kyungsoo could believe it. Joohyun had always had a penchant for shopping. It didn’t help that his father gave her free reign with credit cards and a hefty bank account.

“She’ll probably bankrupt the Park family in a year. Hey, maybe that is why your father agreed to the engagement! Take them down from the inside,” Sehun held up a finger. “I am, in fact, a genius.”

“You might be on to something,” Kyungsoo humored him.

Joohyun was engaged to Park Chanyeol _. Joohyun was engaged to Park Chanyeol._ His sister was engaged to Park Chanyeol….he needed to stop the engagement soon. Just the thought of it was driving him crazy.

 

 

 

It wouldn’t be easy to ditch Sehun and Baekhyun for the second night in a row, so he enlisted the help of Soo Jung, who was only too happy to help if it meant she could meet Jongin under the guise of seeing Kyungsoo instead. Kyungsoo texted Chanyeol, agreeing to meet up at his rooms at the hotel a little after eight in the evening. They needed to work out the details of their plan. Baekhyun drove him over, picking Soo Jung up on the way.

“How’s life?” she asked, slipping into the backseat of Kyungsoo’s black s550.     

“Splendid, as always,” Kyungsoo answered drily, earning a nudge to the side from his good friend.

They bantered playfully the rest of the way over. It was a stress reliever, to joke around and spend time with one of his oldest friends, even if it was all a cover for something else.

When they entered the hotel Soo Jung practically ran to the elevator. “You should make more friends here, Soo. I like how this is going.”

“So selfish,” Kyungsoo playfully scolded her.

They took the elevator up to different floors, Kyungsoo stepping off first. “Have fun, use a condom,” he teased, Soo Jung making a face at him as the elevator doors slid shut.

Kyungsoo laughed, strolling to Chanyeol’s room with an unusually light heart. He fixed his expression before knocking on the door. He didn’t want Chanyeol to think he was actually happy to see him.

The door opened on the second knock, like Chanyeol had been waiting for him. It took Kyungsoo by surprise, forcing him to take a step back.

Chanyeol smirked, amused at Kyungsoo’s surprise. He leaned against the doorframe, arm resting near the top. He was dressed in a black suit, and grey dress shirt. Kyungsoo wanted to roll his eyes - apparently Chanyeol was playing grown up today.

“You just couldn’t stay away,” Chanyeol said, winking.

Kyungsoo made a gagging noise. “Hardly.”

Chanyeol stepped aside, chuckling. Kyungsoo padded into the apartment, brushing past Chanyeol without a glance.

“I found someone,” Kyungsoo remarked once the door was closed. Chanyeol followed him into the apartment interior, a few steps behind. “Now how do we get Kim Namil in a hotel with a prostitute?”

“Easy.” Chanyeol flopped onto the leather sofa. “He gets coffee every Tuesday and Thursday after work, we send your guy in to catch is eye and then he takes care of the rest. Just need him to lead Mr. goody-two-shoes here for a fun time.”

“I highly doubt it will be that easy.” Kyungsoo crossed his arm against his chest. “You think Namil will meet someone and go to a hotel with them two seconds later? We’re talking about a guy who probably runs background checks on his parents every other week.”

Chanyeol smiled, holding up a finger. “That is where you are wrong, Soo. Because it will be that easy.” Chanyeol reached into his suit coat, pulling out a baggy. He tossed it on the coffee table, Kyungsoo spotted a white powder in the bag.

“Bribe the person at the coffee shop, slip a little something extra in his drink. By the time he meets your guy he is already well on his way to having his judgment severely impaired.”

“And if he figures it out before he drinks?” Kyungsoo countered.

“Then we try something else.” Chanyeol shrugged.

Kyungsoo sighed. “Fine. When do we do it?”

“Seeing as how it is Friday, Tuesday next week is the soonest we can.”

Kyungsoo nodded in agreement. The sooner Namil was off his back and Chanyeol was out of his life the better. “Tuesday, it is.”

Chanyeol was looking at him, a strange expression on his face. Kyungsoo bristled under the attention, looking away. “I’ll call you Monday for the final details.”

“How have you really been?’ Chanyeol asked, his voice losing its normally sarcastic quality.

 Kyungsoo stopped. His hands clenched into fists. “Fine.”  He hated that he sounded weak, that what should have come out as confident, as an order, sounded more like a plea.

He felt weak like Chanyeol had managed to chip away a piece of him so effortlessly, with only two one on one meetings. With the briefest of exchanges.

He heard Chanyeol get up, he heard him approach, but he still didn’t move. He didn’t move a muscle until he felt Chanyeol’s hand on his shoulder. He took a step forward, wrenching himself free even if the touch had been on the soft side.

Kyungsoo stalked towards the door. This time Chanyeol didn’t try to follow.

 

 

 

“Found what you asked for, boss. Made sure he is available any night you need him,” Sehun explained. “So just say the word.”

The phone on Kyungsoo’s desk buzzed. Kyungsoo didn’t have to answer it to know it was Baekhyun telling him his father was looking for him. He had to present the logistics for the movement of the Park’s goods to the Jangan development, he had promised to have it done today.

“It will probably be Tuesday next week, but I will confirm.” Kyungsoo stood, grabbing his laptop. “Thanks for looking into it.”

Sehun made a face. “Did...did I just hear Do Kyungsoo thank me?” he teased.

Kyungsoo scowled.

“This must be my lucky day,” Sehun sing-songed. “But are you feeling alright? Are you dying? If you’re dying can I have your car?”

Kyungsoo flipped Sehun off on his way out of the office, leaving his best friend to laugh loudly.

 

 

Kyungsoo ran into In Sung outside his father’s office. The lawyer pulled him aside. “I heard you have Sehun finding someone at Sapphires. I don’t know what you’re up to, but be careful.”

He couldn’t be sure how In Sung found out, but he wasn’t happy about it. His father couldn’t know what he was planning with Chanyeol or all hell would break loose.

“If your father finds out...well, I don’t have to tell you.” In Sung sighed. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Kyungsoo tried to reassure him but In Sung didn’t look convinced.

“Don’t do anything that will make him kill you,” were In Sung’s last warning words.

Kyungsoo nodded. Was it that terrible that he knew his father probably would kill him if the circumstances were right. If he made the wrong move? That he had always known that?

 

 

Kyungsoo’s father listened to his presentation, challenging several elements of it before he eventually agreed to the plan. It was one thing that Kyungsoo could cross off his list, one unwelcome task that was completed.

His father didn’t tell him good job, but the fact he had agreed to everything meant enough to Kyungsoo. He had never heard _good job_ from his father anyway, their dynamic wasn’t like that. No, their relationship worked on a mixture of fear, of Kyungsoo always agreeing, of never betraying his true thoughts or emotions to the man who had lorded over his entire life.

On his way out of his father’s office his cell phone rang, it was his mother.

“I had your tux sent to your apartment this morning,” she rambled. “If it needs any alterations let me know. I hope you confirmed with Soo Jung what time you are picking her up.”

Kyungsoo stopped to press the elevator button. “Wait, what is going on?”

“Dear, don’t you remember? It is the annual gala tomorrow night.” His mother sounded offended he could have possibly forgotten.

Kyungsoo held the phone away from his face and swore under his breath. He had completely forgotten about the event.

“No mom, I remember,” he lied.

“Great. Joohyun and Chanyeol will ride with you and Soo Jung to the party. “

Kyungsoo gritted his teeth, listening as his mother continued to rattle off details of the event he absolutely did not want to attend, even more so now he knew Chanyeol would be there.

 

****

 

The Seventeenth Annual SNNA Charity Gala was a see-and-be-seen affair. It was somewhere the wealthy, the well-heeled, the movers and shakers, went to ensure they had a good image. Attendance was over three thousand dollars a plate, which meant that the guest list was certain to only consist of those who had enough money to afford such a donation.

It also happened to be one of the few lavish gatherings the Do family attended on an annual basis. Kyungsoo had been going to the event since he was a teenager, accompanying his parents and sister to the gala every November.

Most of the time Kyungsoo survived it with a few feigned smiles and some small talk, leaving as soon as he could in favor of either returning to the office or meeting associates at far less formal locations for business.

He had his doubts he would survive the gala this year at all.

Baekhyun drove the two younger Do siblings, chatting noisily the entire way to pick up Soo Jung. She was clad in a red floor-length dress. She looked stunning. Kyungsoo was thankful that Joohyun and her got along so well, leaving the two to chatter happily (together and with Baekhyun) on the drive over to the hotel to pick up Chanyeol.

As he watched the city pass by, a blur of lights from cards and signs on buildings, he lost himself in thought. His mind jumped from their plan, from the reality, he could be free of Chanyeol in a few days, to memories, to different times when Chanyeol wasn’t a person he would rather shoot than look at.

“Hey, are you even listening?” Soo Jung nudged Kyungsoo in the ribs, getting his attention.

“Huh?” Kyungsoo blinked at his friend.

“Chanyeol sent me a message, he’ll meet us there.” Joohyun waved her phone.

Kyungsoo looked at it dumbly. “He has your number?”

“Of course, he has her number! They’re engaged you dumbass.” Soo Jung tsked. “Seriously I have no idea how you survive some days.”

“Because he has me,” Baekhyun yelled from the front.

Kyungsoo hit the back of the driver’s seat, earning a whine from his assistant.

 

 

The gala’s location was changed on an annual basis. In the past it had been at the Joseon Hotel, last year it was at the new performing arts center. This year it was at the enclosure at the Arboretum, a dazzling array of winter plants greeting guests as they filtered in under the Edison lighting.

Kyungsoo drifted into the party with Soo Jung on one arm and Joohyun on the other, smiling for photographs. Much to his annoyance, he had no way to escape the journalists hunkered down at the entrance to the event. Once inside he spotted his parents across the entrance hall, his father and mother talking to a couple who Kyungsoo recognized as the owners of a tech company. Another scan of the room and he spotted several officials from the housing authority, a few politicians as well, that he had done business with in the past.

No sign of Park Chanyeol.

“Jongin is supposed to be here,” Soo Jung whispered. “I’m going to find him.”

Kyungsoo nodded, watching his friend drift off into the crowd.

“There he is,” Joohyun remarked, steering Kyungsoo towards the white tent that covered a bar area.

Kyungsoo’s jaw tightened when he spotted Chanyeol standing and chatting with his sister and brother-in-law.

“You go to them, I have a few people I need to talk to.” He moved his arm, patting his sister’s hand affectionately before he stepped away, disappearing into the crowd.

 

 

Kyungsoo couldn’t escape Chanyeol forever. Much to his horror, he found his name card sitting next to Chanyeol’s at their assigned table. He was a second away from moving it when his mother spotted him, cooing over the thoughtfulness of the hosts to place her future son-in-law at their family table.

It turned out the Yoora and her husband was seated at the same table as well, Yoora next to Joohyun, her husband beside her.

Kyungsoo scooted his chair as close to Soo Jung as he could without it seeming impolite or vulgar, leaving as much space between himself and Chanyeol as possible.

Kyungsoo was already seated, sipping his wine, when Joohyun, Chanyeol, Yoora, and her husband wandered to the table.

Chanyeol greeted the family politely, turning on the charm when he complimented Mrs. Do on her attire.

Kyungsoo gritted his teeth, not bothering to as much as glance at the man next to him through most of the dinner.

Conversation flowed freely, but Mr. Do did most of the talking. He could, every so often, be the talkative sort when it was required of him. Like when he was at a gala, needing to play the part of an upstanding citizen, happy with his family, grateful he could attend such an event and give to those who needed it more than him.

Kyungsoo tried to listen, but it was a lost cause. He felt hyper-aware of the person seated to his left, too aware. He finished his glass of wine and then another, not realizing that he was drinking too quickly until he made a move to stand after dinner. “I’m going for a smoke,” he excused himself, bowing, head feeling light from the alcohol. He wandered through the crowd, feeling warm and a bit lightheaded.

He wandered away from the tents, down a path that led into the barely lit gardens that surrounded the festivities. Once he was far enough away he lit a cigarette, inhaling in the cool night air.

“Have you considered my offer?”

Kyungsoo stilled, cigarette perched between his lips. He took a drag, then exhaled, smoke rising into the night. “What are you doing here?”

Kim Namil stepped closer, into the dim lighting of the garden. “If you’d rather I set up a time to meet you back at your office, I can.”

The prosecutor was really getting on his nerves.

“I think you misunderstand me, sir. There isn’t an offer to consider.” Kyungsoo ashed.

“Alright then. There shouldn’t be any harm in your father finding out about what happened in Jeju five years ago, sir.” Namil threatened.

“And what happened five years ago?”

Kyungsoo turned around, surprised to see Chanyeol standing there. He had his arms folded against his chest. He was glaring at Kim Namil.

“Two for one deal, I should come to these types of things more often.” Namil bowed slightly to Chanyeol. “I doubt I have to tell you what happened, Mr. Park. You were there, weren’t you?”

Kyungsoo felt his palms become clammy. He wanted to push Chanyeol away, to stop him from hearing. “Please leave,” he hissed at Namil.

“Ahh, but what happened five years ago might be of interest to _some people_ ,” Namil mused.

“Do special prosecutors regularly use blackmail?” Chanyeol stepped forward, staring down Namil.

“I’m not blackmailing anyone. I was giving Mr. Do a chance to save his family.”

“By threatening him?” Chanyeol countered.

Kyungsoo listened to the exchange, focused entirely on appearing calm. The moment Chanyeol had arrived his anxiety had taken root, his body responding to the reality of Chanyeol hearing the threats. _Of Chanyeol knowing._

Namil shook his head. “No. Why would it be a threat?” he looked at Kyungsoo. “Is there something wrong with what happened five years ago, Mr. Do?”

Kyungsoo clenched his fists, nails digging into the flesh of his palms. He felt the tiniest tremor in his bottom lip.

“This is a private party, Mr. Kim. I think it’s time you leave.” Chanyeol stepped in between the prosecutor and Kyungsoo.

“Very well. You know how to contact me once you have made up your mind.” Namil bowed, taking his leave, walking into the night.

Kyungsoo felt a shiver run up his spine. His heart was thundering in his chest, ears ringing. He had to maintain control. He couldn’t fall apart, not now, not in front of Chanyeol.

“Are you okay?”  Chanyeol was there, hands on Kyungsoo’s shoulders, looking down at him in concern.  Kyungsoo shrugged him off.

“I’m fine,” he answered, trying to move around the taller man.

Chanyeol wouldn't let him, trying again to put his hands on Kyungsoo’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, I can take care of this.”

“You don’t need to take care of anything.” Kyungsoo shoved Chanyeol aside.

Chanyeol looked angry, but under the rage, there was a hint of something else. Sadness, perhaps. He stared at Kyungsoo, looking a little bit lost. “How many times has he contacted you?”

  
Kyungsoo was done with the conversation. He started down the path, stopping after a few steps.

Soo Jung stood in the middle of the path, watching him. “What’s wrong?” He might be able to lie to Chanyeol, but he couldn’t lie to his best friend. He didn't know how much she had heard but from her expression, he could tell she was concerned.

 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Kyungsoo answered.

 

Soo Jung let out a heavy sigh before walking over to Kyungsoo and grabbing his arm. Unlike when

Chanyeol touched him, Kyungsoo didn’t shrug her off.

 

“Come on, we’re leaving.” She tugged his arm, urging him to follow.

 

“What?” Kyungsoo could easily have stayed put, but he went along with her, letting her guide him down a diverging path.

 

“You heard me,” she answered. “We need to go.”

 

“Why?”

 

“You ask too many questions,” she huffed, pulling him down a path that led to the parking lot.

 

 

 

 

The second his shot glass was empty, it was refilled. Soo Jung had reached the point where she spilled more liquor on the coffee table then she got in the glass, but neither of them cared.

They were at Kyungsoo’s apartment, sitting on his couch. They had both changed out of their formal attire in favor of comfortable clothes, pajama bottoms, and t-shirts (Soo Jung had raided Kyungsoo’s closet without a second thought).

It was Soo Jung who had brought out the liquor but it was Kyungsoo who hadn’t argued. He drank. They both drank. And now his friend wanted some answers.

“Are you going to tell me what happened or do I have to call Sehun over?” she slurred, leaning back into the sofa.

“Don’t call Sehun,” Kyungsoo quickly replied, eyes trained on the shot glass. The world seemed a bit...fuzzy. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” Soo Jung answered.

“That isn’t an answer,” Kyungsoo said, turning to look at his best friend.

“And you aren’t telling me what happened,” Soo Jung replied. She reached for the liquor bottle, taking a sip.

“It’s complicated.” Kyungsoo flopped back into the sofa, letting his body slide down until most of his back was resting on the bottom cushion.

“I gathered as much.”

Kyungsoo stared up at the ceiling. He had never talked to anyone about what happened years before, it was a memory he didn’t want to hold onto. Perhaps it was the threats or more than likely it was the liquor, but he felt like he could tell someone now. He could tell Soo Jung.

Hell, he probably had to. He doubted she would leave unless he told her something.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Kyungsoo warned.

“I promise.” Soo Jung was a safety net in some ways because she knew, she understood most of Kyungsoo’s life, the biggest secrets that he kept. It was the only reason he could tell her this.

“Kim Namil brought up something that happened five years ago…” Kyungsoo swallowed. It was painful to admit, to remember.

“My father sent me to Jeju to manage a development deal. Resort, money laundering front operation, bid rigging, the whole deal.  I met Chanyeol there.” Memories of Chanyeol, in a tacky Hawaiian shirt, hair dyed purple, friendly and unassuming flashed in his mind.

Soo Jung was silent, listening attentively.

“I didn’t know who he was until it was too late. He hacked into my computer and got at some of the family’s accounts. Wiped out a few million and was gone.” The rage he felt when he had found out when In Sung had shown him the picture of Park Chanyeol….even in his inebriated state the anger came back full force. “Somehow Namil found out and is threatening to expose the information to father. If he finds out I let Chanyeol steal from us, he’ll kill me.”

He heard Soo Jung sigh heavily and turned his head to look at her. She had that look on her face, the one that said she wasn’t entirely convinced. “What else happened?” she challenged.

Kyungsoo lulled his head back, not wanting to look at her when he admitted it. “We slept together.” The words were hard to get out, like saying them made it that much more real. It had been his first time, after ignoring his feelings for so long. He had resisted hooking up with anyone, knowing his father would disown him, or kill him if he knew he was gay. Then there was Chanyeol, easy smiles, a place far from Seoul.

Silence.

“You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”

Trust Soo Jung to pick up on it, to see what he had so carefully tried to hide all these years.

Yes, he had fallen a little in love with the man with long legs and a goofy smile, who liked to joke around and made Kyungsoo laugh. The man who said he was on an extended vacation in Jeju, courtesy of his fat trust fund. The man who approached Kyungsoo first, who made him feel comfortable when he was on edge, when he was fielding angry calls from his father and immense pressure to succeed at his first big deal. the man he met again and again over the period of two months, until one day he was gone, taking Kyungsoo’s heart and a good deal of his family’s money with him.

“I know we’ve never talked about it, like you’ve never admitted it,” Soo Jung said slowly. “But I always knew. For fucks sake, we’ve been friends since we were kids, Kyungsoo. I know you like guys. And that is totally cool with me, so if you thought telling me was going to shock me or whatever it won’t.”

“I didn’t think that,” Kyungsoo said quietly. He never thought coming out to Soo Jung or even to Sehun would break their friendship. He hadn’t done it for more practical reasons, mainly he feared if his father would find out it would be the end of him, quite literally.

“What a mess. And he is engaged to Joohyun. Shit.” Soo Jung whistled.

“A glorious mess,” Kyungsoo muttered. “If my father found out I had been with Chanyeol….” he closed his eyes. “He would probably kill me. And Namil knows it.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I have a plan to deal with Namil.” He wasn’t going to admit Chanyeol was involved, Soo Jung didn’t need to know that detail. It was enough that he had poured his heart out to her, a rather drunken, brief admission to something long buried.

“Be careful.”

Kyungsoo nodded. “Thank you, for this.” He felt some measure of relief at being able to speak the truth, no matter how horrible the past had been. How angry it made him, how much it threatened his present.

“No problem. What else are friends for?” Soo Jung took another swig from the bottle, smacking her lips as she swallowed. “By the way, Park Chanyeol is a fuck-head.”

Kyungsoo managed a small smile.

Five years ago he had made a mistake. He had trusted Park Chanyeol. He had fallen in love with Park Chanyeol. And now his world was teetering on the edge, ready to collapse.

 

 

Kyungsoo wasn’t used to his doorbell ringing at three in the morning, he was even less used to Soo Jung swearing up a storm as she staggered to answer it.

“Whoever it is, don’t answer,” Kyungsoo yelled, his words pointedly ignored.

When the swearing started Kyungsoo instantly sobered, his slowly dying alcohol buzz gone when he heard a deep voice sound from the hallway.

Soo Jung had her index finger in Chanyeol’s chest when Kyungsoo arrived at the front door, poking him repeatedly as she called him a variety of curse words that Kyungsoo didn’t even know existed.

Chanyeol looked past her, giving Kyungsoo a pleading look. “We need to talk.”

“You are the asshole of a shit stain a raccoon puked up.” Soo Jung poked her finger into Chanyeol’s chest a few dozen times. “No, wait, that is even too good a thing to call you. You’re a pizza burn in the world’s fucking mouth!”

“Soo Jung,” Kyungsoo said quietly, putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“No, wait, I’m not done!” She shrugged Kyungsoo off. “I hope your balls turn square and fester at the corners you fuck faced excuse for a human.”

“Soo Jung.” Kyungsoo tried again to coax his best friend away from the door.

“Fine, I’m done,” she muttered, shooting a death look Chanyeol’s way before stepping aside.

Chanyeol stepped into Kyungsoo’s apartment, hesitating for a brief moment before he shut the door after him. Kyungsoo imagined he was terrified of Soo Jung, which was probably a smart decision on his part.

“Can we talk?” Chanyeol asked, ignoring the death glares coming from the woman next to him.

“Should I kick him out?” Soo Jung asked, arms crossed over her chest.

Kyungsoo glanced from his best friend to …. _the fuck faced excuse for a human._ “No, I’ll talk to him.”

Soo Jung rolled her eyes at the answer.

Kyungsoo gestured for Chanyeol to follow him. He led him through the living room, to his home office. He shut the door behind them, Soo Jung stopping short with another dirty look playing on her face.

“What is it?” Kyungsoo took a seat at his desk, spinning around to face Chanyeol.

Chanyeol leaned against the wall, arms crossed. There were dark circles under his eyes, his styled hair from earlier in the evening was now a mess. “How long has he been threatening you?”

“Why does it matter?”

“It just does,” Chanyeol responded, clenching his jaw.

“This is the second time he approached me. There, is that all you wanted to know?” Kyungsoo tried to play it cool, to remain calm. He looked up at Chanyeol with questioning eyes.

“We never talked about it, about Jeju,” Chanyeol started.

Kyungsoo shook his head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Chanyeol pursed his lips, nodding. His face was reddening. “Right, nothing. Nothing at all.”

The anger was hard to keep a handle on. Kyungsoo’s body was betraying him. He could feel the heat creep up his neck, his heart rate pick up. He wanted to yell, to let the pain out, to tell Chanyeol exactly what he thought of him. But no, he couldn’t betray how hurt he still was.

“You seduced me and you stole from me,” Kyungsoo said through gritted teeth. “Isn’t that all there is to it?”

“Do you ever get tired of fighting our father’s fights for them?” Chanyeol snorted, looking up at the ceiling. “You really think you have it all figured out.”

“Then enlighten me,” Kyungsoo challenged. He clasped his hands together, nails digging into the backs of his hands.

“There may have been a worse thing, Kyungsoo, then stealing from you. Did you ever think perhaps I took the least damaging path?” Chanyeol stared at him, dark eyes, full of emotion. “We both have lived lives that are lies, that are fucking terrible, terrible lies, but you know what, you figured it all out. Fine. Then we don’t have much to talk about. I won’t bother you anymore.”

“Kim Namil,” Kyungsoo blurted out. The problem that brought them together. The only thing he needed Chanyeol for in the grand scheme of things.

“I’ll take care of Kim Namil. You go back to your office, to being your father’s favorite,” Chanyeol spat. “I’ll let you get rid of me easily enough.”

Kyungsoo swallowed, a lump in his throat. Those eyes, who he had seen shine so brightly five years before, looked at him with anger and sadness. With hurt.

“Why did you agree to the engagement?” It was a moment clouded with the dying buzz of liquor, with the knowledge they were behind a closed door, that a subject that had so long tormented him was now being spoken of. It was a congruence of desperation, of stabbing emotional pain, of feelings that he had long categorized as wrong and foolish.

“If I said it was to see you again, would you believe me?” Chanyeol asked, a bitter tinge to his words.

“No,” Kyungsoo answered quickly, not daring to entertain the idea.

“Of course you wouldn’t believe me.” Chanyeol sighed. “Goodnight Soo.” He reached for the door handle without a backward glance.

When he opened the door Soo Jung stumbled backward, having heard the whole thing. It didn’t give Chanyeol pause, he maneuvered around her, stalking towards the front door.

“He really is an asshat,” Soo Jung said, pointing down the hall.

Kyungsoo stared at the floor, ignoring her, ignoring his own feelings, ignoring the hard slam of his front door and the silence that came after.

 

 

“This isn’t the way to my house.”  Kyungsoo looked over at Sehun, having a feeling that his friend was to blame.

“Your mom wants you to come over for dinner.” Sehun smiled sweetly.

Kyungsoo shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. It really was the day from hell. He had a pounding headache for most of the morning and part of the afternoon thanks to his time with Soo Jung. He was still trying to forget his visit from Chanyeol and his father had been in a particularly sour mood the entire hour he had seen him during a meeting.

And now he was being forced to attend a family dinner. _Great._

“Whatever she bribed you with, I’ll double it,” Kyungsoo said.

“You can’t possibly double your mother’s love for me,” Sehun sing-songed, laughing.

Kyungsoo debated opening the car door and rolling onto the street. Seriously debated it.

 

 

His mother tried to be subtle, but she failed miserably. She smiled sweetly and offered Kyungsoo tea, leaving Sehun to wander off to talk to Joohyun. Kyungsoo knew the moment he walked into the room something was up.

“I saw that you left the party early last night,” she began. “With Soo Jung.”

Kyungsoo sat expressionless, sipping his tea. “Yep.”

“Her mother said she didn’t come home until early the next morning.”

“Yep.”

“She was wearing your clothing.”

Kyungsoo set his teacup down on the coffee table. “Mother, I know what you are insinuating, and please, don’t ask me about it.”

His mother frowned. “But, dear-”

“Please.” Kyungsoo would take the illusion of being with Soo Jung, but he wasn’t going to discuss his supposed sex life over tea with his mother.

“I just–”

Joohyun and Sehun saved the day, his sister’s high pitched giggle cutting off the conversation. They walked into the room, clearly in the middle of some sort of inside joke, both of them laughing and smiling.

“Wouldn’t it be grand if you and Soo Jung could have a double wedding with Joohyun and Chanyeol?” Or perhaps his sister hadn’t exactly saved the day.

Sehun and Joohyun stopped laughing, the two of them gawking at his mother.

“I have some work I need to get done. I’ll be in the study, please have Mr. Lee inform me when dinner is done.” Kyungsoo stood and walked out of the room without another word.

Family dinners were never a good thing.

 

 

Kyungsoo lost track of time while he worked. He was diligently trying to clean up his inbox, responding to messages that had piled up during the last week while he was buried with meetings and figuring out the logistics of the Park side of the Jangan deal.

When there was a soft knock on the study door, Kyungsoo finally looked at the clock, realizing that three hours had passed.

“Come in,” he called, wondering why he hadn’t been summoned for dinner yet.

It was Sehun, not Mr. Lee, who stood in the doorway.

“We have to go,” Sehun said. He was wearing a serious expression. “Back to the office.”

Kyungsoo glanced at his phone. If something had happened surely he would have received a message?

Sehun shook his head. He pulled a phone from his inside suit jacket pocket and held it out.

Kyungsoo swore under his breath. If he was being given a new phone, shit had gone down.

 

 

 

Kyungsoo opened the files on the burner phone the moment he was seated in his car, Baekhyun gunning it back to the White Star corporate office.

There was very little information available, causing Kyungsoo to look for answers from Sehun. “What do you know?”

“Boss called everyone in. Told me to switch out your phone so nothing could be traced. That’s all I know.”

“Everyone who?”

“In Sung, the guys from downtown, Sang Woo and his son.”

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo swore under his breath. He gripped the phone and stared out the window, watching the city go by in a blur. Dozens of possibilities went through his head. His father calling everyone to the office meant something serious had happened.

It was precedent that certain associates didn’t visit the White Star headquarters, their ties to the Do family were painstakingly made untraceable. If they were being asked to attend…..If he was even bringing Sang Woo in, a man who had a rap sheet spanning more years than Kyungsoo had been alive, something had gone down.

Could Kim Namil have released what he knew to my father? The thought popped into Kyungsoo’s head. Was he being sent to his death? Was his father gathering the higher-ups in their gang to witness the downfall of his son?

His heart rate picked up as he imagined walking into his father’s office, a room full of hardened criminals, of crooked businessmen, glaring at him. His father, face painted with disappointment and anger, handing down a death sentence.

This could be his last day on earth.

But would he run? Would he avoid it?

Baekhyun speed through a red light, the squeal of tires, a person slamming on their breaks sounding. Kyungsoo didn’t flinch when the car stopped only feet from hitting his black s550, stopping in time as Baekhyun sped past it.

_Whatever may come, he was ready._

 

 

 

Kyungsoo stalked into his father’s office, Sehun at his side. His father was in one of his private meeting rooms, In Sung was with him. Sangwoo had already arrived, as had a few of the other associates he had called in.

He could see sense the tension, the anxious and unsure atmosphere when he entered the meeting room.

“What happened?” he asked, approaching his father.

His father looked tired and on edge. He was prone to bouts of rage, anger, but this….this was something different. Kyungsoo never remembered seeing his father look so broken, he could almost swear that his eyes were rimmed with red...but no, that wasn’t possible. His father didn’t cry, he had never cried.  It was In sung who spoke. “Kim Namil died earlier today. An explosive was planted in his car.”

Kyungsoo furrowed his brow. Kim Namil, special prosecutor _...assassinated_. “Who did it?”

Maybe deep down he already knew who did it. A flash of Chanyeol’s face, contorted in anger, a promise to take care of the problem.

“Not sure yet, but he wasn’t the only victim. Park Sungjin was killed in the explosion as well.”

Kyungsoo gaped, mind reeling.

“He was giving evidence to the feds,” In Sung explained. “Was doing it at the wrong fucking time too. He was sitting next to Kim Namil when the bomb detonated. Blew him apart.”

Kyungsoo reached for the back of one of the conference room chairs, gripping the leather tightly as if to sturdy himself. Chanyeol’s father had turned state’s evidence...and died doing it. This changed everything. Gone was the threat of Kim Namil, the prosecutor no more. But now the leader of the Park family was gone as well.

“We have other issues,” his father finally spoke. “We’ll discuss it when everyone is here.”

Kyungsoo nodded. He glanced at Sehun, noting his friend’s ashen expression.

 _Park Sungjin had turned on his family_. Kim Namil was dead. Their world had just shifted, the aftereffects not yet known. The immediate threat from Kim Namil would be gone, they would have some breathing room in that regard. But for how long? Would another hard-nosed prosecutor take his place?

Chanyeol. He had promised to take care of the problem. He had said….had he any idea what his father was doing? Kyungsoo hated the concern that crept up on him, the thought of Chanyeol being responsible for his own father’s death.

A sensation of sickness, wanting to vomit, overwhelmed him. Kyungsoo sank into an office chair, trying his best not to break his façade of calm.

 

 

 

 

They arrived quickly, all realizing the gravity of the summons. It was less than a half an hour before the meeting room was full – men in business suits, others in short sleeve shirts that showed off their sleeves of tattoos. All waiting, wondering what facilitated the meeting.

Kyungsoo’s father spoke with an even tone at first, hiding his fatigue and anger well. He explained the situation calmly to the room.

Kim Namil was dead. Park Sungjin was dead. All things Kyungsoo had already been told.

“Park Chanyeol has assumed control of the family operations.” That was the first new piece of information.

Kyungsoo swallowed, eyes trained on his father. Chanyeol, who had been the scorn of his father, so easily assumed control. It didn’t make sense.

“He has made it known that the engagement between our families is off, as is his involvement in the Jangan deal.”

To Kyungsoo it was welcome If not bittersweet news, but to some people in the room, it seemed to hit a nerve.

“We’re fucked,” Sang Woo cursed, slamming his hand down on the table.

Another associate echoed the sentiment.

Kyungsoo blinked, looking towards his father. “What’s going on?”

“We promised the goods from the Jangan deal to the Chinese. Steal of a price, under market wholesale.” His father answered firmly. “Set it up to look like a break in, some small time gang that is barely on our radar. We walk away with all the profits and Park is none the wiser. Now the deal is off we have nothing to sell the Chinese, which is a _huge_ fucking problem.”

The pieces fell into place. Why his father had been so insistent on letting the Parks store their shipment in the Jangan complex...it had all been for their own gain. He was going to sell the drugs out from under them. It would be a betrayal, a cleverly hidden one. In sung had been right, his father had a plan. He hadn’t trusted the Parks completely, or at least the deal hadn’t been about trust. It had been about profit, about gain, the elements that drove their lives.

“How big of a problem?” Kyungsoo asked. A deal like this was worth millions–– if they didn’t come through the consequences could be disastrous.

“If we don’t get them the goods on time, there’ll be a full out war against the family. They aren’t to be fucked with. We don’t come through and they won’t stop until the entire operation is dead,” In Sung spoke up. “And right now there is no way we can get that quantity in time. Not unless we do business with the Parks, and if we buy it outright we are going to lose millions on this deal. Not to mention Mr. Park may have narced us out to the feds, who likely know of the plan to store the goods at Jangan.”

Sang Woo stood, office chair rolling back and hitting the wall with a thud. “We are completely fucked.” He put his hands to his eyes and paced, face red with anger. “I told you that we shouldn’t do it. I fucking told you we can’t trust the Parks to come through.”

Kyungsoo’s father’s demeanor broke. He picked up his coffee cup and threw it against the wall with a crash, the cup fracturing onto the floor, steaming liquid rolling down the wall. He leaped from his seat, palms slamming against the table as he leveled his gaze at Sang Woo. “You told me?! You didn’t fucking tell me a thing! You’re the one who arranged the meeting with the Chinese.”

 The shouts surrounded Kyungsoo. Words are spoken in the heat of the moment. Another thrown cup. The pleas of Sang Woo’s son to sit down. It faded into background noise.

The possibilities….his mother, his sister, shot dead by the Chinese gang who would declare war on his family. Sehun dying, Soo Jung dead. A tidal wave of blood sweeping them all away, destroying, snuffing out their lives, erasing their existence.

Park Chanyeol, the victor. The one who survived, who stopped Kim Namil, who took control. Who….

 _Possibly killed his own father._ Who was probably falling apart just as much as Kyungsoo, but for different reasons.

“Let me talk to Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo spoke up. The shouts overpowered his words, causing him to raise his voice and repeat what he had said.

“What?!” His father’s head snapped to look at him.

“Let me talk to Chanyeol and see if I can work something out,” Kyungsoo repeated. “He might be willing to sell at a discount, we can minimize losses.”

“You want to work with the Parks?” In Sung’s eyebrow raised.

“Yes, If it means saving my family,” Kyungsoo answered. “I would do anything to save the family.”

_Anything._

 

 

 

Kyungsoo texted him but Chanyeol never responded to his message. He didn’t call or acknowledge him but that was not going to deter Kyungsoo. He drove himself to the hotel and waited outside of Chanyeol’s room, knowing he would come back sooner or later.

Kyungsoo sat on the floor, letting his suit coat wrinkle as it bunched up against the hallway wall. He folded his hands over his knees and waited, mind dark with what-ifs and maybes.

Park Chanyeol had tricked him years ago, had stolen his trust and his money. It had broken his heart, shattered it completely. It had been his first real relationship with anyone and it was built on lies. And then he had waltzed back into his life, a smile on his face, ready to marry Kyungsoo’s sister.

And now.

_Now he was his only hope._

Minutes turned into hours and still, he waited.

Finally, around dawn, the elevator stopped, Chanyeol alighting. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes. The hair he usually wore carefully styled was loose and messy. He looked pale, upset. Kyungsoo watched him approach without standing, lost in his own haze of tiredness.

His steps were slow, missing the usual confidence that so annoyed Kyungsoo. He didn’t seem to notice him until he was almost at his door. When he did he stopped short, staring down at Kyungsoo.

“We need to talk,” Kyungsoo managed to say, his voice cracking, throat dry. A replay of the night before, of Chanyeol saying the same thing….angry words…

“Yeah, we do.” Chanyeol walked to the door and punched the code into the keypad, the green light flashing as the lock eased.

Kyungsoo stood, following him into his apartment. He mimicked Chanyeol’s actions of toeing off his shoes at the entryway, padding after him into the living room.

“Did you do it?” Perhaps it wasn’t the first thing he wanted to say or planned to say, but it was the first question out of his mouth.

Chanyeol flopped into a chair, long legs crossing in front of him. He ran his hands through his hair, sighing tiredly. “Yeah.”

It was so causal of a confirmation, but Kyungsoo could sense the hidden pain behind his agreement. He took a seat on the edge of the sofa, eyes trained on Chanyeol.

“I didn’t know he was going to be in the car…” Chanyeol stared up at the ceiling. “I didn’t know he was doing any of it, talking to the feds.” His voice cracked. “Funny how it all fucking works.”

“How much do they know?”

“I managed to erase what little information he gave them. He had just started talking to Kim Namil, hadn’t exposed that much.” A pause. “I don’t understand why, why he was talking. What the fuck he thought he would get out of it. He was going to sell everyone out. Fuck, Soo, he was going to take his entire gang down from the inside.”

Kyungsoo didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t fathom why Chanyeol’s father saw that route as the best option, why he would throw away all of the work he had done over decades for an immunity deal. Was he threatened with something terrible? Was Namil digging up secrets that were more painful than the ones he threatened Kyungsoo with?

“He’s gone, and now it is my problem.” Chanyeol snorted. “All mine. And I did it. Now I have a fucking corporation I don’t fully understand, and a pissed off army of gangsters that might find out the truth any day now. And you know what?” He looked at Kyungsoo, the tears brimming in his eyes. “I played it like this for years. Got my foot in, convinced people behind his back that I wasn’t just a fuck head, that I could do it in time. And now look, I have them all staring at me, asking me what happened. I don’t even know where to begin.”

The tears fell, slipping down Chanyeol’s face. He wiped at his nose, sniffling.

“Do they know he was talking?” It was practical, a safe question. It closed off the emotions Kyungsoo didn’t want to feel, the ways he didn’t want to approach the situation. The fact a man he was once in love with was breaking, was broken...a man who he claimed to loathe.

“They know he was there, but they don’t know why. Fed them bullshit about Namil blackmailing him. I know not everyone believed it.”

Kyungsoo fidgeted with his hands, uncomfortable.

“But you’re rid of me now. Bet you’re happy. No more engagement. Won’t be around anymore.” Chanyeol chuckled, a sad and desperate laugh. “I guess I accomplished something.”

Kyungsoo swallowed, chest tightening. He looked towards the long hallway to the front door, the darkness, only a few lamps on. He didn’t know what to say or how to ask, how to even broach the subject that had brought him there.

“You didn’t know,” he muttered.

“Do you think that matters?!” Chanyeol raised his voice.

 “I need your help,” Kyungsoo said slowly, not knowing what else to do or to say.

“Of course you do,” Chanyeol said.

It felt low, to ask him for help at such a time, but wasn’t that what they were? A sweet disaster, a mix of hurt feelings and bad timing.

 “The goods that your father was going to store in Jangan, I need to buy that quantity at a good price.”

It got Chanyeol’s attention. He sat up straight, leveling his gaze on Kyungsoo, tears wiped away once again with the back of his hands. “Why would you need drugs?” He was suspicious, and rightfully so.

“It’s complicated, but I need them. Please.” Kyungsoo stared back, hoping, praying that he would strike a bargain. “I need your help.”

“I just killed someone for you. I just killed my own father in the process. And now you need my help?” Chanyeol raised his voice.

“I didn’t ask you to kill anyone!” Kyungsoo protested. “You did it on your own. We had a plan, Chanyeol, a fucking plan and you went against it. It isn’t my fault.”

Chanyeol snorted. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t understand a single fucking thing Kyungsoo. Five years ago and now, you still don’t get it.” He bolted upright. “Get the fuck out.” He pointed towards the front door, face contorted with anger.

 _No, no, no_ he couldn’t leave without a promise. He had never seen his father as worried as he did earlier that evening. If they failed to get the drugs they were doomed. But could he grovel, could he sink so low in front of a man he hated so much?

He hesitated before he did it. He let his pride escape him when he stood and sunk to his knees in front of Park Chanyeol, hands clasped together as he begged him. “Please. I need this, please.”

“Pathetic,” Chanyeol huffed, face tear stained and red from anger.

“I’ll do anything. Just please, help me.” Kyungsoo looked up into Chanyeol’s dark eyes. He hoped there was a sliver of empathy for him somewhere. Honestly, Kyungsoo thought, if their positions were reversed he would have a hard time saying yes. He would probably take joy in saying no, in fact.

Chanyeol looked away. He stalked towards the far side of the room. “Anything?”

“Anything,” Kyungsoo confirmed.

Chanyeol paced, hands on his hips. Tense seconds passed before he answered.

“Get out. I’ll let you know the conditions tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo mumbled as he stood. “Thank you.”

As he left Chanyeol’s apartment a lingering sadness accompanied him. He pressed the elevator button, adjusting his suit as he waited. Death. Backstabbing. A day that could be your last. It followed them, both of them, no matter what they did.

Mistakes, horrible mistakes.

The elevator doors slid open and Kyungsoo stepped inside. A couple was on the elevator, a young pair who were laughing and talking in hushed whispers. The girl held a blue cellphone in her hand, a pink charm dangling from it. The boy had a camera around his neck, smiling brightly every time he looked at the girl by his side. Kyungsoo glanced at them then looked away.

His life…Chanyeol’s life…it was never supposed to be as easy as it was for such people. It was never simple, never accommodating to genuine feelings, to predicted outcomes. To hushed whispers and childish laughter.

They existed like jagged rocks on a coastline, battered by never-ending waves. They would never know what would come next to pummel them, to wear away at the tough exteriors they spent so long strengthening. A death, a murder, a gunshot to the head in a dirty warehouse in Seoul. A prosecutor hunting them in the name of a justice, a five-year-old bad memory….

The elevator opened on the first floor. Kyungsoo let the young couple step out first, smiling sadly as they walked away.

 

 

 

 

 

Kyungsoo dropped by his apartment long enough to change his clothes and take a quick shower. He made it back to the office at his usual time, having not slept at all the night before. The mood in the office was one of polar opposites. Employees who had no idea of the issue the Do family was facing went about their work like normal, their only connection with the events whispers and idle gossip regarding the death of Joohyun’s future father-in-law. For those who knew of the Chinese deal, the handful of people who were in the innermost circle, the day was a string of what-ifs, of potential doom. Of faulty ground to walk on.

Kyungsoo had told his father Chanyeol had all but agreed to make a deal, that he would notify them that day. His father hadn’t looked terribly convinced.

Sehun made an appearance in Kyungsoo’s office with a stack of newspapers, tossing them down on the Kyungsoo’s desk with a thud. It was a repeat of the day after the engagement party, except this time the news was less festive.

The headlines blared: _the assassination of a prosecutor and the esteemed chairman of Viva Pharmacies. Police investigating, potential ties to foreign organized crime_. Write-ups about Viva Pharmacies and Chanyeol’s supposed role taking it over now that his father was gone. Times for the funeral...a private family affair. A piece on Kim Namil and his good deeds.

“Have you talked to your sister?” Sehun asked, arms folded against his chest.

“What? No.” Kyungsoo shook his head, sorting through the papers. “Why?”

“Thought she might be worried seeing as her future father-in-law is dead and her engagement is broken. Or does she not know about it?”

Kyungsoo shrugged. It wasn’t like it was an actual engagement to begin with. “I don’t know. I’m sure my mother will tell her.”

His phone buzzed a second later, ending the conversation. His father was summoning him to his office.

 

 

Kyungsoo took three steps into his father’s office before stopping, dumbfounded to see Park Chanyeol sitting in one of the black leather club chairs across from Kyungsoo’s father.

“Sit,” his father ordered.

Kyungsoo shuffled over, obeying his father’s command and taking a seat. He sat at the edge of the sofa, perfect posture, heart beating erratically in his chest.

Chanyeol looked completely composed, dressed in a grey suit, hair styled neatly, hands clasped politely on his lap. He didn’t show a hint of the despair, the anger, or the sadness Kyungsoo had seen in him several hours before. The only hint of what came before was the bloodshot look in his eyes.

“He won’t talk business unless you are here,” his father announced, looking pointedly at Kyungsoo.

“I can supply the merchandise on one condition,” Chanyeol laws looking at Kyungsoo, ignoring his father. “Kyungsoo has to marry me.”

Kyungsoo was certain his heart stopped. Time stopped. Everything halted with the five words Chanyeol spoke so brazenly, sitting across from Kyungsoo’s father.

 _Marry Chanyeol_. Was this some kind of fucking joke?

“What in the fuck are you talking about?” his father grumbled.

“You need the drugs. Seems you are in a bad spot. I can help, but I want Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol reiterated in a firm voice. Kyungsoo snorted, unable to hold back his disgust, how distasteful he found the suggestion.

He glanced at his father, noticed how his face was reddening in anger, his nails digging into the arm of his chair. “My son isn’t a fag and last time I heard neither are you. I can agree to give you Joohyun if that is what you want.”

“If the answer is no, then I think our business is done.” Chanyeol made a move to stand.

“Fine.” His father said through gritted teeth.

“What?!” Kyungsoo blurted out. He couldn’t marry Chanyeol, that wasn’t possible, it wasn’t––

“Then we have a deal.” Chanyeol sat back down. “Do you need them delivered to the Jangan location or is there another location you prefer?”

Kyungsoo stared at his father with pleading eyes, desperate. “We can find another way to get through this.” He had said he would do anything, but never in his wildest dreams did he think Chanyeol would propose _this_.

His father couldn’t look at him, couldn’t make eye contact.

“There has to be another supplier some––”

“Stop,” his father ordered. Kyungsoo sunk back down into his chair, hands gripped tightly together.

_No, no, no._

“Your marriage won’t happen right away. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you how complicated your current situation is,” Dongwoo said.

Chanyeol nodded. “Of course, it is better to wait a few months.”

His father was dead. He was breaking his engagement to Joohyun only to demand an engagement with her brother. His organization was in chaos and if he didn’t deliver the goods to Kyungsoo’s family their organization would be in a worse spot than Viva Pharmacies. Their entire lives were a collective mess at the moment, they should tread carefully.

“I’ll send over the details of the delivery.” Kyungsoo’s father’s voice had regained its confidence, he wasn’t going to show Park Chanyeol his desperation again. “I have a meeting in five minutes.”

It was a signal that the meeting was over, that there was nothing more to discuss.

Kyungsoo couldn’t look at Chanyeol, he couldn’t look at his father. He had been sold out to a man he hated.

“I’ll be in touch.” Chanyeol stood, a few seconds later there was the sound of his dress shoes clicking on the marble floor.

Kyungsoo stayed seated, waiting for an official dismissal from his father. He dug his nails into the skin of his hands, focused on the sting, on the pain.

“Not a word of this gets out to anyone.”

Kyungsoo nodded, eyes trained on the table in front of him.

“We can figure out how to break it later, for now, we placate Park.”

Another nod.

“Send the logistics through In Sung and he’ll have them delivered. Now go.”

Kyungsoo bowed to his father when he stood, then headed for the door, smoothing his hands over his suit as he walked.

Composure. He must remain composed.

 

 

 

The next three days were a blur. A living nightmare of newspaper articles, the Park family at the mortuary hall, speculation on what the chairman’s death meant for White Star and Viva’s merger. Money talked, burying the headlines of Kim Namil’s assassination behind the speculation of Viva’s future. Kyungsoo waited, wondering if the truth would be exposed, if Chanyeol’s culpability would become public knowledge. By the third day, there was nothing, no hint of him as a suspect.

Kyungsoo threw himself into his work, into salvaging what he could. Without the merger one hundred percent guaranteed there were a handful of deals that were now at risk. He worked tirelessly to shore them up, to make promises he could keep. Sehun remained at his side, unusually quiet, his normally sarcastic demeanor staid and respectful.

It was five days after Chanyeol’s father died that Kyungsoo woke up to a noise in his apartment. He grabbed his pistol and crept into the living room, half expecting to find Sehun sitting on his couch but wanting to be prepared just in case.

Instead, he found Chanyeol on his sofa, head thrown back, eyes closed. He was dressed in black like he had come over directly from the mortuary hall but Kyungsoo knew that couldn’t be right. His father’s funeral had been over for at least a day.

“How did you get in here?” Kyungsoo asked, setting the pistol down on a side table.

“You think I can’t hack a door lock?” Chanyeol said, voice hoarse.

Kyungsoo reluctantly walked towards him, picking up a whiff of alcohol the closer he got. “You’re drunk.”

“Hmm,” Chanyeol hummed. His body was relaxed, long limbs boneless as he sunk into the sofa. “Maybe a little.”

Words threatened to spill from Kyungsoo’s mouth, but he held back. Chanyeol was fighting his own battle, his own loss. The words wouldn’t do any good, not now.

“How long have you been drinking?” Kyungsoo stopped a few feet from the sofa, folding his arms against his chest. Chanyeol looked terrible, dark circles halfway down his cheeks.

“I don’t remember.”

“I’ll get you some water.” Kyungsoo started towards the kitchen.

“You know,” Chanyeol said, voice deep. “Back then he wanted me to kill you.”

Kyungsoo stopped walking. He turned slowly. “What?”

“On Jeju.” Chanyeol looked up, opening his eyes. “My father wanted me to kill you.”

They locked eyes, staring at each other. Chanyeol looking haggard, eyes meeting Kyungsoo’s icy glare, neither breaking eye contact.

“He wanted me to kill you but I said no. I had to do something so I stole what I could, or he would have killed me.” Chanyeol’s lips mocked a smile but there was no happiness there, only sadness. “That’s when he cut me out of the day to day operations.”

There were no rules of what to say in a situation like this. Kyungsoo tore himself away, back to the task at hand. He turned from Chanyeol without a word, unable to hide behind a façade of calm for much longer.

His hands shook when he reached for a glass from the cupboard.

_“There may have been a worse thing, Kyungsoo, then stealing from you.”_

Chanyeol’s words from a few nights before rang in his head. Jeju island, five years before, when his heart swelled with a new feeling, when he felt like his life was his own for a sliver of time before it was torn away, before the truth set in.

Or was the truth as clean cut, as simple as he assumed?

If Chanyeol had been ordered to kill him and disobeyed his father….

He had sacrificed his own future for Kyungsoo. He couldn’t even imagine doing the same in his shoes if he even could. To be tossed aside from the family business all because of…because…

Kyungsoo swallowed, belatedly realizing the water had long overflown from the cup. He shut the faucet off, gripping the glass with shaking hands.

“I love you, I’ve loved you for five years.” That deep voice, the words he didn’t want to hear. Kyungsoo slid the glass onto the counter and braced himself on the edge.

“I’d do anything for you.”

Chanyeol was close, Kyungsoo could smell the faint odor of cigarette smoke and booze. “Like make me marry you?”

“You would never do it willingly.”

Of course, he wouldn’t. He would never have talked to Chanyeol again if it hadn’t been for Kim Namil nipping at their heels. So if he loved him so fucking much…”Then why did you never once try to talk to me? To explain?”

“I knew you would hate me. I knew this bullshit feud between our families would stop you, that you would never believe a word I said.”

“You were right.” Kyungsoo dragged his hand through his hair, turning he leaned his back against the counter.

Chanyeol was standing against the doorframe, tired, drunk, and desperate. “Did you ever love me?”

“People don’t fall in love in a month or two months,” Kyungsoo answered quickly, lying through his teeth.

“I wished it a thousand fucking times that we weren’t us, that we weren’t from the families we are from.” Chanyeol ignored Kyungsoo’s words in favor of rambling. His cheeks were flushed, from anger or something else Kyungsoo wasn’t sure. “That we were just a businessman and a college kid on vacation and it would be that easy to meet back in Seoul.”

“What is the point of thinking like that?” Kyungsoo could feel the tremor in his hands, the anxiety that threatened to spill loose. The feelings drudged up by Chanyeol’s words, his confession, sending Kyungsoo’s heart into a painful rhythm. He clutched at the countertop, hoping to hide his reaction.

“I’ll make you love me.” He said it so forcefully, eyes boring holes into Kyungsoo’s.

“You can’t make someone love.”

“Watch me.”

It was as much anger as sadness that framed Chanyeol’s words, that showed in his posture, in the way he gave Kyungsoo one last look before turning around, retreating to the other room. Kyungsoo swallowed back the words, the feelings that burned through him, that made him want to scream, to show the emotions he kept so well controlled.

A few minutes later he walked into the living room, glass of water in hand. Chanyeol was gone.

 

 

 

It was always on his mind, sometimes at the forefront, other times pushed back by more immediate matters. Regardless it was there, the deal that had been made, the deal his father had promised they would break.

The day after Chanyeol visited his apartment, Kyungsoo found himself sitting across a conference table from his father, reading through the high-level details of their latest housing deal. His father was great at pretending as long as business went on as usual. He might yell or threaten, but he could always put a smile on his face a second later, reverting to the charming businessman the outside world knew. He showed no hint of anger when Kyungsoo brought it up again, when he questioned their next move.

“The Park deal...” That is what it was, another deal, albeit a very bad one.

“Give it time,” his father answered, waving away his questions by asking after another ongoing project.

Kyungsoo swallowed his insecurities, following his father’s lead.

 

 

“Take a walk with me.” In Sung was as buried in the tension, in the nerve-wracking mood of the family as Kyungsoo was. When he suggested they leave the office one evening for a short trip to the nearby park, Kyungsoo wearily agreed.

In Sung knew it all, of course. The agreement, the price that Kyungsoo was going to pay. He was less cryptic than Kyungsoo’s father, asking outright, but there was still a vagueness to the situation.

“How are you holding up?” In Sung asked as they reached the park. It was nearly deserted at this time of night, the sun setting, the park lights flickering on.

“We have to do what we can,” Kyungsoo answered. He put his hands in his pockets, shoes kicking up dust from the gravel path. “My father said the deal will be broken.”

“I have no doubt he will think of a way to break it.”

They walked in silence for a minute before In Sung spoke. “Did I ever tell you why your father owes me a favor?”

“No.” Kyungsoo had never pried. In Sung had only mentioned it a few times, honestly, Kyungsoo had guessed it was some kind of joke on the lawyer’s part.

“Thirty years ago I learned something I wasn’t supposed to.”

Kyungsoo glanced over at the lawyer. He could make out his serious expression in the low street lights.

“What it was, doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I never told anyone. Your father owes me for that. Do you know why I have never collected that favor?”

“No.” Kyungsoo couldn’t help but wonder what it had been, what was so important that his father would be beholden to In Sung. Of course, Dongwoo was full of secrets, they all were. But what was this one? In the end, it probably didn’t matter.

“I never saw anything that was comparable to the secret I kept. If I did, well, I wouldn’t hesitate to ask for something in return.”

“What do you consider comparable?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Happiness,” In Sung answered without missing a beat.

“You’ve never been happy?” Kyungsoo countered.

“Have you?”

“Maybe, once.” Kyungsoo’s chest constricted.

“I remember more than you would think, Kyungsoo.” In Sung tapped his forehead with his index finger.

“Huh?” Kyungsoo stopped walking. He gave In Sung a questioning look.

“Nothing. Now tell me about the new acquisition you’ve been working on.”

Kyungsoo shifted gears away from the cryptic conversation, pouring out the details of the latest project. By the time they returned to the office he felt marginally better, a moments reprieve before he was once again buried in the turmoil of his life.

 

 

“I would take credit for it but I have aesthetic standards. I can’t understand who would decorate with...” Sehun gestured lazily towards the small pile of Gundam. “Whatever these are.”

Kyungsoo stared at the pile of models, some assembled, some still in the packaging. They were claiming a corner of his office which was both annoying and completely surprising. “How did they get here?”

Sehun shrugged. “Ask Baekhyun, if you didn’t notice I was in the same meeting as you.”

Kyungsoo trudged out of his office, stopping in front of Baekhyun’s desk. His assistant was as nonplussed about the delivery as Sehun. “Soo Jung dropped them off with some guy.”

Kyungsoo knew then and there (and after a mini-interrogation of Baekhyun) that Jongin had been _some guy_. Which meant Chanyeol was behind it, further confirmed when Kyungsoo found the note tucked into the pile of models.

_In case you missed them. Didn’t think you would accept a bouquet of roses._

Kyungsoo ignored the mound of Gundam, furiously typing at his keyboard after he found the note.

“You really make no sense sometimes,” Sehun drawled. “If you want me to throw them away just tell me.”

“Keep them.” The words were out of his mouth before he could process where they came from.

 

 

Park Chanyeol was annoyingly persistent. He was waiting for Kyungsoo when he left the office later that evening, a shit eating grin on his face like he didn’t have a care in the world. He was standing in the lobby of White Star headquarters, probably charming the receptionists if the faint dusting of pink on their cheeks was anything to go by.

“You kept them,” Chanyeol said as he approached.

Kyungsoo scowled at him, walking past Chanyeol.

“Do you want to have dinner?” He jogged to catch up, his long legs letting him easily match Kyungsoo’s stride.

“Don’t you have a business to run?” Kyungsoo shot back.

“My sister is so good at it I decided to let her have a chance for a few hours,” Chanyeol drawled. “Sharing is caring.”

Kyungsoo stopped short, Chanyeol clumsily sliding to his own stop, his dress shoes squeezing on the lobby floor. Kyungsoo looked up at him, noting how much he had recovered from the day before. The mischievous glint was back in his eyes, gone was the drunken, lovesick fool who had made promises bordering on threats. He looked well rested, playful, and energetic. It was annoying, perhaps because it was similar to how Kyungsoo reacted. How he could bury the hurt and the pain under his own _normal_ demeanor, albeit a much more subdued one.

“I have work to do,” Kyungsoo said firmly.

“Do it after dinner.”

Kyungsoo sighed. He had already sent Sehun out to run a contract over to a business partner and Baekhyun had been hinting about a night off for most of the day. Still, dinner with Chanyeol wasn’t something Kyungsoo wanted to embark upon, not when it had been less than twenty-four hours since their heated conversation. It was all some attempt by Chanyeol to win him over, but it wasn’t going to work.

“Bye, Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo headed towards the door, knowing very well that he would be followed.

When he didn’t hear the click of dress shoes on the marble flooring he dared to look over his shoulder. Chanyeol was watching him go but not following. He gave Kyungsoo a small wave when their eyes met, Kyungsoo immediately turning back and storming out of the building, feeling foolish for having looked back.   


 

 

Apparently, the universe was against Kyungsoo getting any work done that night. A few minutes after he got back to his apartment Soo Jung was at his door with takeout and a very curious expression on her face.

“Did you throw them away?” she asked before she even made it all the way into the apartment.

Kyungsoo ignored the question in favor of warning against any further deliveries. “If he sends Jongin with anything else, tell him no.” Kyungsoo gave his best friend a pointed look, earning a dramatic eye roll from her.

“Fine. But you do realize that I told Jongin how much of an asshat Chanyeol is and he totally agreed with me the entire way over to the office,” Soo Jung explained.

“He agreed?” Kyungsoo asked, not having guessed as much. He didn't really know Jongin but he seemed like the loyal type…

“Okay, not agreed per se but he said I am usually right so there is that.” Soo Jung toed off her high heels, padding into the apartment with the bag of takeout on her wrist.

“Is Sehun here?” she asked over her shoulder, heading for the kitchen.

“No.” Kyungsoo trailed after her, giving up on trying to return to his laptop.

“How is everyone doing since…” Soo Jung gestured lazily in the air. She walked over to a cupboard and dug out plates.

“We’re fine,” Kyungsoo said, knowing she was referring to the vague circumstance of Chanyeol’s father’s death and what it could possibly mean to their own family.

“Jongin said that Chanyeol is…oh hell, it doesn’t matter how Chanyeol has been. He’s a dick.” She tore at the plastic bag, taking out the food containers. “Your mother seems worried though, which means my mom is worried which means by default I am worried.”

“About Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo asked dumbly, mind wandering.

“No, about you and Joohyun and whatever else is going on that we don’t know about.”

“Ah, no, it’s fine,” he lied.

“You sure?” Soo Jung was not easily fooled.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Just don’t do anything stupid, okay,” she warned, shoving a plate full of takeout towards him. “Or you will have me to deal with.”

Kyungsoo felt like a lot of people were saying that to him of late.

 

 

Chanyeol showed up at his apartment later that night, stumbling in around two in the morning. Kyungsoo heard his front door open and close and this time he was certain it wasn’t Sehun, he didn’t even consider the possibility.

“Are you drunk?” were the first words out of his mouth.

“No, but I wish I was.” Chanyeol splayed out on the sofa, his tie undone, suit coat discarded on the back of one of Kyungsoo’s dining room chairs. He had lost the charm he showed earlier in the day, dark circles prominent under his eyes.

“I need to change my door locks,” Kyungsoo sighed, resigning himself to the visit. He padded over to an armchair and sat down. He didn’t care he was in his pajamas, the ratty grey t-shirt and flannel pajama pants less a stark contrast to Chanyeol’s business attire.

“Please don’t. Or wait, go ahead, I’ll figure those out too.”

Kyungsoo hugged his knees to his chest. Chanyeol remained silent for a few moments before speaking. “I’m not sad enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“My father.”

The two words hung in the air. Among everything, their fucked up lives, it was different it was….Kyungsoo looked away, staring towards the dim nightlight that shone from the kitchen.

“You know I went behind his back for years, making friends with the guys.”

Kyungsoo heard Chanyeol take a deep breath. He decided to listen, to let him ramble.

“And I end up killing him. My mom, my sister…fuck, no one knows I did it. And you know what, I should be….I should be torn apart. I shouldn’t want to live but I do. I’m upset but I don’t hate myself.”

Kyungsoo played with the hem of his t-shirt, not knowing what to say.

“I should hate myself, Soo.”

He could tell Chanyeol was crying, his words coming out as half a sob.

“I shouldn’t be doing any of this, dealing with any of it like I am.”

“People deal with things differently,” Kyungsoo said quietly. “You don’t have to feel a certain way.”

“We’re terrible fucking people,” Chanyeol cried, voice cracking with emotion.

Kyungsoo couldn’t look at him, feeling like if he did he was agreeing to the sentiment. “We do what we have to.”

“No, our fathers did what they had to. We were just raised to be shitheads.”

Kyungsoo pursed his lips, fingers tracing the stitching on the edge of his shirt. Of course they were shitty people. They killed, they listened, and they did things that were morally reprehensible. But was there any sense in trying to fight it, in carrying around a guilt that could destroy them? “You aren’t a bad person.”

“I’m not?”

Kyungsoo dared to look over, to make eye contact. The sight of tears streaming down Chanyeol’s cheeks made him feel….”Do you want me to say that you are?”

“Let’s just be terrible together.” He put his hands to his cheeks, wiping away the tears. His nose was red, the dark circles replaced by puffy eye bags.

Kyungsoo looked back towards where he fidgeted with his shirt, not answering.

“I’ll wait, you know, I’ll always wait for you. As long as it takes.”

Kyungsoo wanted to yell at him to leave, to protest his words, but he remained silent.

“You were the first time I felt like I was worth anything, that I was liked for _me._ Back then, on Jeju, it was the only time anything was worth a damn.” Chanyeol’s words hit Kyungsoo hard because it was a shared opinion. Back then they were free, they were…they weren’t two grown men burdened by their sins. Yet he couldn’t agree, he couldn’t do anything but sit in silence, waiting for Chanyeol to say something, to do something more.

It was a few minutes before Chanyeol stood, sniffling.

“Goodnight Soo.”

“Goodnight,” Kyungsoo managed, watching Chanyeol as he walked towards the door.

 

 

The folder hit his desk, sliding a few inches before he stopped it with his palm.

Yesung loomed over his desk, a smug look on his face. “A mistress, secret kid, a male lover before that. Standard blackmail material.”

Kyungsoo opened the folder to find pictures of a woman and child, birth records, a grainy picture of Chanyeol’s father leaving a small white house. A picture of a younger man.

“Namil probably threatened Sungjin that he would expose the truth to his wife or involve the other woman in this mess. Love makes people do stupid shit.”

Would he really take down his own company to keep this a secret? Kyungsoo scanned the images, trying to reason it all out. He had asked Yesung to look into Sungjin, wanting to know what possibly could have made him talk to the prosecutor. He wasn’t sure if Chanyeol already knew, he wasn’t going to ask.

“Probably agreed to narc on something small for immunity. Had no idea he would end up dead because of it.” Yesung yawned. “Any way, need anything else or can I go back to my fortress of solitude?”

“Go. And thanks.” Kyungsoo didn’t look up from the file.

Was it all that simple...was what seemed so complex entirely ….human? Chanyeol's father made stupid mistakes and he was willing to go against his entire life’s work because of it.

Kyungsoo rocked back in his chair, mulling it over. After a few minutes he closed the file and slipped it into his desk drawer. He likely would never know for sure what made Sungjin talk, but this was as good a reason as any he supposed. Chanyeol had killed a man to cover up their secret. Turning state’s evidence to bury dirty laundry wasn’t unthinkable, only terribly unfortunate.

 

 

Kyungsoo witnessed his mother’s anxiety a few days later, trudging to dinner at his parent’s house, this time without Sehun dragging him.

The news was going to be released that evening. The engagement between the only daughter of the chairman of White Star Construction and the new chairman of Viva Pharmacies had been broken. There was a bullshit explanation given, that the timing wasn’t right due to the death of the former chairman of Viva. The truth of the matter would never come out, _could_ never come out.

To the legitimate investors, it was an unfortunate occurrence, something that made them shift their portfolios and place new bets. For the men who worked in the background of both organizations, the ones who knew the truth, it was clear that the deal between the two enemies was over...a new gang war could break out at any time. For Kyungsoo it was the calm before the storm, assuming the storm ever arrived.

In Sung had been the one to tell him it would be announced. “It is better to cut the ambiguity for now, in case.” Kyungsoo knew what the _in case_ meant. In case Chanyeol failed at maintaining the helm of Viva. In case they were able to break the deal that had saved them from the Chinese gang. In case they could revert back to their old feud, to the hatred that had run deep between the families for a generation.

And Chanyeol had agreed to it, had wanted the news out. A lead weight settled in Kyungsoo’s stomach, the thought that he wanted it for wholly personal reasons. Business wasn’t what facilitated Chanyeol’s drunken, fatigued confession a couple days before. It wasn’t what brought him to Kyungsoo’s apartment to cry, to moralize.

His mother was slightly subdued that evening, likely reeling from the loss of her daughter’s engagement, the worry Soo Jung mentioned evident. Kyungsoo had often internally debated how much his father told his mother, how much she really knew. If she had an inkling that her son had been promised in her daughter’s stead….

Joohyun, on the other hand, seemed happier than Kyungsoo had seen her in weeks. He found her in the kitchen, helping their cook with dessert. When she saw her younger brother she smiled.

“And you brought him too?” she joked, pointing at Sehun while she gave Kyungsoo a half-hug, trying not to mar his suit with the flour on her hands.

“You think I’d miss having your mother tell me I grow more handsome by the day?” Sehun shot back.

It was a strange dinner, a heavy atmosphere punctuated by Joohyun and Sehun’s laughter, apparently stemming from inside jokes no one else could even claim to understand. Kyungsoo ignored them, answering his mother and father with brief responses.

When it came time to leave he wandered outside, expecting Sehun to follow. When he didn’t, he ended up going to look for him.

He shouldn’t have been terribly surprised to find Sehun with his hands on Joohyun’s hips, planting a kiss on her cheek. He shouldn’t have been terribly surprised to see his older sister’s arms around Sehun’s neck, smiling as he looked at her with adoration.

And perhaps he wasn’t. He retreated back down the hallway, leaving them alone. When Sehun found him near the foyer Kyungsoo pretended like he hadn’t seen a thing.

“Are we still going to meet Mr. Lee downtown?” Sehun asked, slipping on his shoes.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo answered, wondering what else he had been so blind to.

 

 

He got back to his apartment around one in the morning, smelling like the expensive cigars Mr. Lee favored. He trudged to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water and chugging it down.

He had texts from several people, expressing their sorrow that his sister’s engagement was broken. He tossed his phone on the counter, not ready to respond yet.

Joohyun and Sehun, he should have known long ago there was something going on. It didn’t make him mad, he wasn’t angry if they were together. No, he was angry when Joohyun had become engaged to Chanyeol. That had been anger. This was just...confusion.

Kyungsoo leaned on the counter, closing his eyes. His head hurt and it wasn’t from the two glasses of wine he had nursed while meeting with Mr. Lee.

Park Chanyeol, claiming he could have done worse. Sending him presents like they were in some uncomplicated, cute cycle of flirtations. Going from heart-wrenching confessions to asking him to dinner. It was driving him insane.

He couldn’t sort it out in his head, any of it. He didn’t want to marry Chanyeol, but did he still hate him? Did he still loathe him for everything...if what he had said was true?

Neither of them had ever lived lives that weren’t influenced by their fathers, at least not until recently. Now Chanyeol was trying to figure out his own life...but then, years ago, of course, he would have been a puppet on a string, his actions dictated by his father. Kyungsoo was still a puppet on a string, doing what his father ordered him to do.

_Love._

Yes, he had loved him but love had changed to hatred and he wasn’t so willing to believe it could return to its original state.

Perhaps he could forgive him, he could do that much. He could come to some sort of place where he could at least forgive Park Chanyeol, could at least stop hating him.

He didn’t want to think about how he could get any further than that, not now. Not without reason. He chugged another glass of water, slamming the cup onto the counter before he headed to bed.  

 

 

Kyungsoo peered over his laptop, eyes fixed on his best friend. Sehun, for once, didn’t have his ass on the edge of Kyungsoo's desk. Instead he was sitting in one of the leather chairs near the corner table. He had his cellphone in hand, a broad smile on his face as he stared at the screen.

“Why are you so happy?” Kyungsoo asked, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

Sehun’s expression instantly sobered. “Happy? I’m not happy.” He frowned, looking back down at his phone.

Kyungsoo sighed. He knew he would have to address it sooner or later even if Sehun wasn’t aware he had walked in on them. Now was as good of time as any, he decided. “Is Joohyun texting you?”

“ _Me_?!” Sehun pointed his finger to his chest and shook his head. “No. Why would she text me?”

“I saw you guys kissing,” Kyungsoo admitted, doing his best not to burst out laughing at the way Sehun started to squirm in his seat.

“That’s is ridiculous. Have you been drinking again? Are you drunk?” Sehun leaned forward to peer at Kyungsoo. “Are you on drugs?”

“How long have you been seeing my sister?” Kyungsoo folded his arms against his chest and leaned back in his chair.

“How much did you drink? One bottle or two? Did you snort powder?” Sehun clucked his tongue. “Soo, you really need to lay off the booze during the day.”

Sehun’s phone vibrated, the sound loud enough for Kyungsoo to hear. Without warning he was out of his chair, rushing to grab the phone out of his best friend’s hand. Sehun held it up high, using his height to his advantage.

“If it isn’t my sister than why can’t I see it?!” Kyungsoo asked, jumping up in an attempt to snatch Sehun’s phone away.

“I don’t invade your personal life!” Sehun shouted.

Kyungsoo delivered a swift kick to Sehun’s shin. He immediately winced, hand going down, giving Kyungsoo the opportunity to grab the phone away. With the slide of the lock screen he was staring at an absolutely disgusting message.

_Cupcake, I miss you <3333_

He recognized his sister’s number. “Cupcake?” Kyungsoo snorted.

Sehun rubbed at his leg. “At least someone realizes how sweet I can be.” He scowled, grabbing his phone back.

“And this whole time I thought you were in love with my mom. Never guessed it was Joohyun all along,” Kyungsoo teased, strolling back around his desk.

“I can’t help it that the women in your family have excellent taste and want to give me their unconditional love,” Sehun said.

“Righhhht.” Kyungsoo sighed.

“Now if you’ll excuse me I need to respond to your sister.” Sehun sat back down, phone in hand, smile reforming on his face.

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes before returning to his work.

 

 

 

When two in the morning rolled around Kyungsoo was almost expecting it. He wasn’t disappointed, the familiar click of the front door, the heavy footsteps occurring a few minutes after the top of the hour.

“Your favorite emo wannabe-gangster has arrived,” Chanyeol called from the living room.

Kyungsoo met him with the same subdued expression he had worked his entire life to perfect. “Are you planning on crying this time?”

“Maybe. No. Who knows?” Chanyeol collapsed into the sofa like he owned it, sprawling out, long limbs flailed out. He was dressed like he had just come from the office. “How was your day?”

Kyungsoo sat in the side chair, folding his legs under him. “I called Sehun out for kissing Joohyun. My father yelled at me for an hour about something he knew was inevitable but insisted on going ahead with. My lunch sucked and I ate ramyun for dinner,” Kyungsoo rambled. “You?”

“Wait, who is Sehun?” Chanyeol sat up, locking eyes with Kyungsoo.

“My best friend. He works with me.”

“Oh.” Chanyeol pursed his lips. A moment passed before he asked, “So has he ever kissed you?”

“What?! No!” Kyungsoo gagged at the thought. “He’s straight.”

“If he wasn’t would you kiss him?” Chanyeol asked, leaning forward.

“I liked it better when you were crying.” Kyungsoo stood up and walked towards the kitchen, done with the ridiculous conversation. He grabbed the red tea kettle on his stove and walked to the sink, filling it with water.

Would he kiss Sehun? What kind of question was that?! The nerve of Chanyeol to show up uninvited and ask such stupid-

“My day was awful. I confused two of the divisions and ended up sounding like more of an ass than normal during a meeting with the executive staff. Yoora pinched my leg under the table and my mother won't stop crying about my dad,” Chanyeol said, voice close.

Kyungsoo finished filling the tea kettle then walked to the stove. “Do you want some tea?”

“Yes. Please.”

Kyungsoo set the water to boil, turning he found Chanyeol was leaning against the doorframe, watching him. They looked at each other in silence for a few seconds and much to Kyungsoo’s horror it didn’t feel as awkward as it should have.

He cleared his throat and walked towards the fridge, looking for anything to divert his attention from Chanyeol.

He heard Chanyeol approach but ignored him, opening the fridge he tried to look busy.

“Kyungsoo?”

Kyungsoo turned to answer, finding himself suddenly pulled into a hug. The fridge door meandered shut behind him, jars in the fridge door rattling when it closed.

“What are you-” Kyungsoo tried to get out of the hug but Chanyeol pulled him closer, tightening his hold.

A moment later Chanyeol’s arms relaxed. He stepped back, a smile on his face. “I feel better already.”

Kyungsoo scowled.

“You’re just as huggable as you were five years ago,” Chanyeol sing-songed, stepping further away in case Kyungsoo tried to hit him.

The tea kettle on the stove began to whistle, diverting Kyungsoo’s attention. It was Chanyeol’s lucky day, apparently.

Kyungsoo poured the steaming liquid into two mugs, frowning at what had just happened. He had a curse on the tip of his tongue when he returned to the living room but he didn’t have a chance to deliver it.

The room was empty, Chanyeol had left.

 

 

Kyungsoo shifted on his feet, hands clasped tightly behind his back. He waited under the awning at the front entrance of a newly constructed apartment building. To his left was the recently assembled playground for the children who would eventually inhabit the apartment complex alongside their families. Plastic playground equipment caught the glint of the sun, making Kyungsoo squint.

“Is anyone ever on time?” Sehun asked rhetorically. He grumbled a few more words that Kyungsoo couldn’t make out.

There were a half dozen other men from the downtown outfit loitering about the place, most out of sight, dressed like they were in the construction trade to alleviate suspicion. The Chinese gang would arrive soon which meant the handover would take place. A truck disguised as a construction supply vehicle was parked nearby containing the merchandise from Chanyeol.

It had been a surprise when he learned the goods had arrived that morning. His father was handling the deal. After Chanyeol’s request Kyungsoo had relayed the original logistics plan to In Sung but then heard nothing, seemingly kept in the dark. When his father called him early that morning to ask him to handle the transfer he was amazed.

“I’ll be glad when this is over.” Sehun talked when he was nervous, Kyungsoo knew it well.

“Me too.”

A beat up pickup truck pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later, two men in the front seat. They were rough looking, not at all out of place in a construction zone. They parked next to the moving van, one sliding over to the driver’s side as the driver alighted.

He walked towards Kyungsoo, clipboard in hand.

Kyungsoo greeted the man in Chinese, glancing over at Sehun to wait for the signal. It came a few seconds later, the burner phone Sehun had in his hand buzzing.

“It’s good,” Sehun said quietly, indicating the funds had been transferred.

Kyungsoo took the clipboard, making a show of reviewing the paperwork. Beside him Sehun unlocked the van doors remotely, nodding at the man to indicate it was ready. Kyungsoo handed the clipboard back and then it was over, the Chinese gangster walking to the truck and sliding into the driver’s seat.

The money had been wired, the deal was done. The danger of a gang war was no more. His engagement, the agreement that had bought them the drugs, would be easier to get out of. Chanyeol had given his part, now it was up to Kyungsoo to give his or break his word. Kyungsoo sighed, trying not to think of what might happen, what his father might be planning.

They watched the Chinese men drive away. With one last look Kyungsoo turned and headed towards his black Mercedes, Sehun trailing behind him.

 

 

_Dinner?_

Kyungsoo stared at the text message. It was from Chanyeol. He frowned, debating.

 _Sure_ he texted back before he let himself overthink things.

 

 

“It’s kind of like that place, that little bar where we first talked.” Chanyeol beamed, looking around the small establishment with a sense of pride like he owned the place.

Kyungsoo instantly regretted letting Chanyeol pick where they would eat. It really could have been a near carbon copy of the little hotel bar back on Jeju, albeit missing the understated luxury of the resort. There were even little bowls of popcorn on the tables.

“Pinot, right?” Chanyeol said, taking a seat at the table furthest from the door.

“I’m surprised you didn't dye your hair purple for effect,” Kyungsoo said, sitting across from him.

“I thought about it.”

“Of course you did.”

The waitress arrived at their table, taking down their drink orders and handing them menus. She was rather bold in the way she outright flirted with Chanyeol, fixing him with a smile. Kyungsoo frowned, deciding instantly he didn't like her.

“You look nice,” Chanyeol remarked once the waitress was gone.

Kyungsoo looked down at his attire. He had just left the office, was clad in the same style of dress pants and shirt that he normally wore. “Uh, thanks.”

“You’re supposed to say I look nice too,” Chanyeol teased, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“What if you don’t?” Kyungsoo replied, reaching for the bowl.

“What did you think when we first met, the first time you saw me?” Chanyeol leaned forward, expectant.

Kyungsoo pretended to consider the question but he knew very well what he had thought. He had thought Chanyeol was gorgeous, he had thought that he might _almost_ believe in love at first sight. “You tell me first.”

“I thought you were cute and I wanted to sleep with you,” Chanyeol answered quickly.

“Funny considering you knew who I was. At least I didn’t know you were a Park.”

“I could have given a lesser shit what your last name was. You’re beautiful.” Chanyeol was staring, a look of barely hidden lust in his eyes. Kyungsoo could feel the heat creep into his cheeks. “Our fathers are the ones that hate each other, Soo. We were only taught to hate each other, I could have given a lesser shit what family you were from.”

“I thought you were handsome. There, are you satisfied?” Kyungsoo sighed at the wide smile that instantly formed on Chanyeol’s face.

“Almost. You still aren’t in love with me.”

Kyungsoo swallowed back his frustration. If he only admitted he that he had been in love with the man across from him, that he might be n- but no.

“Your pinot. And your captains.” The waitress was back with a flirtatious wink for Chanyeol.

“I was thinking, when we get married we should live at your place. I like your place.” Chanyeol sipped at his drink. “You have a lot of room plus I think your sofa already formed to my body at this point.”

“Are we really talking about this?”

“We’re engaged, Soo.”

Fine, fine, he could humor the conversation. “You aren’t bringing any of your decor to my apartment, it is atrocious.”

Chanyeol pouted. “At least I _have_ decor.”

“And the color scheme is staying the same. I don’t like bright colors.”

“You used to like my purple hair,” Chanyeol countered.

Kyungsoo ignored him. “We split all the chores.”

“Agreed.”

“And don’t bother me while I’m working.”

“Same.”

“You can have the guest bedroom for your…” Kyungsoo gestured in the air. “Computer stuff.”

“That’s fine.”

“If you hide any guns around the place you tell me first, got it?” Kyungsoo pointed at him.

Chanyeol nodded.

Kyungsoo tried to think of any other hard and fast rules before he realized what he was doing. Suddenly he stopped, face reddening.

“We need to have one naked day a week and I want you to wear my t-shirts to bed,” Chanyeol said casually, reaching for more popcorn.

Kyungsoo fixed him with an annoyed look.

“What? You wore one of my shirts back on Jeju, it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Chanyeol shrugged. “I’ve never liked Aerosmith as much as when you were wearing it.”

It was stupid to pretend, to have this conversation to begin with. Kyungsoo knew his father would break the engagement somehow and he was sure that Chanyeol guessed as much. It was all...foolish flirtations. But for some reason he was smiling at how ridiculous it was. And it felt good to smile, to let it all go for a moment and ignore the inevitable pain.

“I get to pick the band t-shirts. I won’t wear anything I don’t like.”

“Are you saying I have bad taste in music?”

“I’m saying I have better taste in music.” Kyungsoo took a sip of his wine, smile hidden by the glass.

“Fine, but only as long as you let me hang up some of the photos I took.” Chanyeol fished out his phone.

Kyungsoo was immediately afraid. “Depends on what they are.”

“Dog selca. Cat selca. Iguana selca.” Chanyeol held up the screen, swiping through them with a smile. “Important artistic endeavors.”

So he was still hunting down animals to take pictures with. Kyungsoo chuckled. “Why do you do that?”

“I like cute things,” Chanyeol said, staring pointedly at Kyungsoo.

“Don’t call me cute again,” Kyungsoo warned. “And iguanas aren’t cute.”

“Fred is deeply offended by your opinion,” Chanyeol joked.

It went on like that for over an hour, playful banter in between drinks and mediocre bar food. Kyungsoo enjoyed himself, let himself enjoy the time like there wasn’t a backlog of bad feelings between them. By the time the waitress brought the check Kyungsoo felt an unfamiliar ache in his cheeks from laughing so much.

When they said goodbye to each other Chanyeol pulled him into a half hug and this time Kyungsoo didn't push him away.

It wasn’t until he was back at the office later that evening that he picked apart the interactions, felt a sense of guilt for letting it all happen. For enjoying himself as much as he had.

 

 

They fell into a routine over the next couple of weeks, one that Kyungsoo could scarcely believe he was following. Chanyeol would show up at his apartment around two in the morning and they would sit up, talking, unwinding, like... _normal people_.

Except they weren’t normal. Their jobs weren’t normal and neither was their relationship even if they did a good job pretending. On the weekends they went to dinner, back at the small bar they had gone to before. During the week they snuck in a few television shows between their long, night time talks.

Doubts crept into Kyungsoo’s mind, doubts that he promptly ignored. A list of reasons why it was bad to keep talking to Chanyeol, to keep laughing with him over stupid shit, commiserating with him over the failures they encountered during the day.

_Ignore, ignore, ignore._

He was almost as good at that as he was at lying of late.

“Why have you been so...what is the word I am looking for…” Sehun pursed his lips. He was perched on the edge of Kyungsoo’s desk. “Ah, I know! Happy. It’s strange, I’m not sure I like it.”

Kyungsoo glared. “Worry about your own emotions, _cupcake_.”

Sehun stammered out a string of insults, which Kyungsoo promptly ignored.

 

 

“Come here.” Chanyeol was lying on Kyungsoo's sofa. It really had become his own, practically. Pillows kept right where Chanyeol left them, if Kyungsoo looked hard enough there probably was an indent that matched his profile.

“Hm?” Kyungsoo looked away from the television. They had been watching a primetime show, something Kyungsoo recorded because he thought Chanyeol might like it. Oh god, he thought like that now.

“Come here,” Chanyeol repeated, holding his arms out and wiggling his fingers.

Kyungsoo swallowed and looked away. “I’m not cuddling with you.”

“Please,” Chanyeol whined. “I brought you dinner.”

“Eating food from a street vendor at two in the morning is not considered dinner,” Kyungsoo pointed out.

“Well, I...I bought you more Gundam.”

“That was like a week ago,” Kyungsoo replied.

Chanyeol whined for another minute before Kyungsoo sighed and finally gave in, standing up and making his way over to the sofa. “We can cuddle for a few minutes, but that’s it and it doesn’t mean anything.”

Chanyeol scooted back on the sofa, giving Kyungsoo as much room as he could. Kyungsoo eyed the spot before sucking in a breath and angling himself onto the sofa, back pressed against Chanyeol’s chest. He willed his heart not to beat too fast as he relaxed back, hyper aware of Chanyeol’s arm slung over his middle. He could smell him, the cologne he wore, the faint scent of a cigarette he had probably smoked earlier in the day.

Chanyeol wasn’t shy about pulling Kyungsoo closer. “Now I can die a happy man.”

“Are you planning on dying soon?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Hopefully not, there is a lot more I want to do with you before I die.”

Kyungsoo swallowed, focused on the television, on the show that was clearly playing but which he wasn’t listening to.

“You smell really good,” Chanyeol husked, breath tickling Kyungsoo’s ear.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, staying very still, not wanting to move an inch. The sofa wasn’t that big so it was inevitable that his ass was pushed back on Chanyeol's front. The fact wasn’t lost to him, his body betraying him when he felt his pants tighten ever so.

“Can I kiss you?” Chanyeol asked and Kyungsoo almost said yes. He wanted to say yes, his body _really_ wanted him to say yes.

“No.” Always in control.

“Okay, we can do that next time.”

Kyungsoo was true to his word. They remained lying on the sofa for all of five minutes before he moved, Chanyeol letting a small, pathetic whine escape his lips when Kyungsoo moved away.

“You’re so cruel,” Chanyeol pouted.

Kyungsoo sighed, sinking back down into his usual chair. “I guess I am. You better get used to it.”

 

 

Cuddling became a thing, just like late night visits and cheap takeout. Chanyeol would whine until Kyungsoo gave in, and inevitably he did. It didn’t go further than that, but it was something. Kyungsoo found himself enjoying the warmth, the affection, even if he would never say so out loud.

It was so nice to feel a moment without stress in a day, to lay on the sofa with his back pressed flush against Chanyeol, the taller man’s arms and legs over his own.

“Seriously how do you smell so good?” was a frequent question from Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo would shrug and smile, nudging Chanyeol to pay attention to the television instead of burying his face in the crook of Kyungsoo's neck.

 

 

“Park Chanyeol.” Dongwoo speaking the name had Kyungsoo tensing. They sat in Dongwoo’s office going over the latest earnings report. “He’s been visiting you.”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo admitted. Chanyeol had been visiting him, every night for a few weeks. Now a day didn’t pass without them talking. It was a habit that Kyungsoo reluctantly could admit he enjoyed, as emotionally difficult as that was.

He couldn’t be sure how his father found out, but in many ways he wasn’t surprised. His father had his ways.

“We need to end the deal with him soon,” Dongwoo said. “The Chinese are off our backs, we don't need him anymore.”

Kyungsoo swallowed, looking down at the report in front of him. “How?”

“I’ll think of a way.” Dongwoo tapped his finger on the table. “Don’t press your luck, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo nodded, fear washing over him.

 

 

He tried to push Chanyeol away, really he did. He texted him asking him not to come over that evening and accepted a dinner date with Soo Jung instead. It turned out to be a fruitless action, trying to avoid Chanyeol, because when he walked into the restaurant to meet Soo Jung he was there.

Kyungsoo hesitated a moment before walking over to the table. Jongin was sitting next to Soo Jung, an arm around her back. Across from them was Chanyeol, dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans, an empty chair next to him.

“I didn't realize you invited friends,” Kyungsoo said through gritted teeth.

Soo Jung beamed up at him, a dazzling smile that was probably meant to be disarming but didn’t work on him. “It’s kind of important that you are both here.”

“Hey.” Jongin flashed a smile, Kyungsoo nodding in turn.

“I missed you,” Chanyeol had the nerve to say, patting the chair next to him.

Kyungsoo took the seat, grumbling under his breath. Seated across from Soo Jung and Jongin the entire thing felt too much like a...like...a _double date_. Kyungsoo pounded his glass of water, feeling suddenly very warm.

“What a small world that our best friends ended up dating,” Chanyeol cooed.

“I already ordered wine, Chanyeol gave your preferences,” Jongin said.

Kyungsoo tried to look amiable, feigning a smile. “So what is the occasion that we all get to eat together?” he asked, grabbing his napkin and unfolding it onto his lap.

The wine arrived at that moment, the sommelier carrying a vintage pinot noir. It wasn't lost on Kyungsoo how Soo Jung declined the wine when it was offered to her.

Kyungsoo eagerly sipped at the drink, looking between Jongin and Soo Jung, wondering what exactly was going on.

Once the sommelier was gone, Soo Jung let it slip, a bit too loudly judging by the looks their table got from the other diners. “We are having a baby!”

Jongin smiled wider than Kyungsoo had ever seen him. Chanyeol started to choke on his wine, hacking into a napkin. Kyungsoo stared at her dumbly, blinking.

“You what?” Kyungsoo asked, trying to digest the news but having a hard time.

Soo Jung put her hand to her stomach, rubbing it. “I am a few weeks along.”

“We want to get married as soon as we can,” Jongin chimed in.

Chanyeol was still coughing. Kyungsoo reached over and patted him on the back with force. Soo Jung was pregnant, was going to marry Jongin. This was….it was…”Congratulations,” Chanyeol finally spit out. “But like, can the world handle another one of you?” He pointed at Jongin.

“Hey!” Jongin shot Chanyeol a dirty look.

“Does your mother know?” Kyungsoo asked Soo Jung, imagining her reaction. She would probably burst into tears.

“Not yet. We wanted to tell both of you first since, you know, best friends and all.”

Kyungsoo reached for his wine and took a big gulp.

“Say something!” Soo Jung demanded. “You’re worrying me.”

“Congrats.” Kyungsoo plastered a smile on his face. “I’m happy for you, really. It is just...it is sudden.”

He knew his own mother would probably cry when she found out there was zero chance he would marry Soo Jung.

“We’re going to be uncles.” Chanyeol nudged him in the ribs.

“Yeah, we are.” Kyungsoo recovered from his initial shock and soon the table was buzzing as they talked about a future tiny Soo Jung or tiny Jongin.

It was an enjoyable dinner, Kyungsoo had to admit. He drank a bit too much wine but he had fun, laughing with his friend and her significant other. And Chanyeol.

It was around ten when Soo Jung and Jongin said they had to leave, Soo Jung whining she was tired. That left Chanyeol and Kyungsoo at the table, seated next to each other.

“Need a ride home?” Chanyeol asked. “I don’t think you should drive.” He pointed at the two empty bottles of Pinot on the table. Chanyeol hadn’t drank as much as Kyungsoo and was relatively sober. It didn’t matter because Baekhyun had dropped him off any way, he could easily call for a ride back.

“Want to come over?” he asked, wanting to punch himself in the face for asking. Maybe it was the baby news, the nice dinner, the happiness of it all that had gotten to him.

Chanyeol leaned forward, invading Kyungsoo's personal space. “Depends. Can I hug you when we get there? Can I kiss you?”

“You’ll have to come over to find out,” Kyungsoo answered, lowering his voice.

He saw Chanyeol’s Adam’s apple bob before he eagerly agreed. He didn't think he had ever seen Chanyeol move so fast in his life, paying the check and heading for the door without wasting a second.

His father was going to end the deal soon anyway, this might be the last time he would see Chanyeol. Something about that future had Kyungsoo feeling all sorts of things. Sadness, affection, regret. It made him approach the evening like a one-off, something that would never happen again even if he might want it to.

And maybe he wanted it to. He knew he had forgiven Chanyeol already but there was something so complicated about taking it further than that.

Which made it even more contradictory that the first thing he did once his apartment door was closed was fist his fingers into Chanyeol’s t-shirt and pull him down for an open-mouthed kiss.

 _A fling_. It was just another fling. That is all that this was, a one night stand, something to remember, something to wash away the bad memories from five years before. It would be over soon, how soon Kyungsoo couldn't be sure, but this wouldn’t last forever, their newfound relationship had an expiration date.

He tried to remember that as their tongues slid together, as his chapped lips met Chanyeol’s soft ones. They were desperate, needier than they were five years ago. Chanyeol wasn’t as gentle or considerate, hands going to Kyungsoo’s waist and slamming him against the wall as they kissed. All consideration was gone, a five-year separation had insured as much.

The momentary sting of his back hitting the plastered wall was welcome, a sobering moment. Kyungsoo’s hands went to Chanyeol’s neck, jerking him closer, asking for more. He needed to feel it, to recognize he was doing this, that it was real.

It was a messy tangle of half kisses, of roving hands as they moved further into the apartment. They tore off their clothing with abandon, breaking their liplock only long enough to divest themselves of their garments.

There was so much that had passed between them. So much that remained unsaid. They let it out with each touch, each press of fingertips into skin, each time they shared a moan, a sound of satisfaction at the way they were brought together.

Kyungsoo wasn’t a nervous virgin this time, he wasn’t hesitant. He used force to push Chanyeol onto the couch, to straddle him. Their hard lengths pressed together, Chanyeol tipping his head back as Kyungsoo sucked marks into his neck.

“Fuck I’ve wanted you for so long,” Chanyeol husked, hands gripping Kyungsoo’s hips.

Kyungsoo answered by leaning back, hand going to Chanyeol’s cock. He sheathed it, Chanyeol sucking in a breath as Kyungsoo began to pump his dick.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Kyungsoo whispered, voice low and husky. “Make me come?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol answered, voice wrecked.

Kyungsoo moved, Chanyeol belatedly reaching for him as he climbed off. He kneeled in front of the man who had caused such ire in him, eyes half hooded, looking up into the face that had so captivated him five years prior.

Without a word he placed his hand on Chanyeol’s length, mouth moving to take the head in. He sucked, earning a breathy moan from Chanyeol. It was worth it, to pull the small, satisfied noises from his mouth as he sucked the thick length, tongue moving against the underside. One hand pressed into Chanyeol’s thigh, short fingernails grazing the skin as he sucked Chanyeol’s cock, teasing, then sliding it further inside his mouth.

“I’m gonna–“Chanyeol’s hand went to Kyungsoo’s cheek, urging him to move away.

Kyungsoo obliged, spit and pre-come on his bottom lip as he leaned back. He looked up at Chanyeol, wide eyed, cheeks flushed. He didn’t have lubricant, he wouldn’t have thought he needed it.

“Can I eat you out?” Chanyeol asked.

Kyungsoo agreed with a whimper, the suggestion making fire pool in his gut. He moved onto the sofa, feeling clumsy and uncoordinated. Chanyeol was quick to move between his legs, spreading them wider. He kissed along Kyungsoo’s thighs, gentle and reverent pecks before he reached his hole.

It was heady, dizzying, the moment his tongue pressed against the ring of muscles. Kyungsoo grabbed onto the sofa, onto anything he could dig his short nails into, as Chanyeol licked around his opening. His breath hitched, body shuddering when Chanyeol’s tongue darted inside, licking, breaching him.

Chanyeol’s fingers soon joined his tongue, stretching Kyungsoo open, giving him better access. He licked inside, wet muscle swiping along Kyungsoo’s walls, earning low moans from Kyungsoo.

When Chanyeol moved away Kyungsoo sucked in a breath, loosening his grip on the sofa.

“Do you have––“

“No,” Kyungsoo answered immediately, regretting it. But he wanted it. He wanted it so much. “I should be okay,” he half- promised, not so sure himself.

“I can’t,” Chanyeol whispered, pupils dilated, lips swollen. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Kyungsoo frowned, then moved. He sat up, pushing Chanyeol back on the sofa. He straddled him, feeling a sense of accomplishment at the way Chanyeol’s breath hitched, at the way his hands went to Kyungsoo’s waist, eyes wide.

He lined himself up, sucking in a breath as he impaled himself on Chanyeol’s cock, sliding down slowly.

“F-fuck,” Chanyeol threw his head back, gripping Kyungsoo’s waist tightly.

Kyungsoo cried out as he seated himself, Chanyeol’s cock splitting him open. Once he was full, he wrapped his arms around Chanyeol’s neck and moved his hips up, a slow drag.

“You’re going to kill me,” Chanyeol husked, holding onto Kyungsoo’s hips with an iron grip.

“Wouldn’t that be beneficial,” Kyungsoo joked, slamming down on Chanyeol’s cock, both mean moaning in tandem.

He rode Chanyeol, hips snapping, head lulling forward and resting on Chanyeol’s shoulder. He felt so full, so good, Chanyeol’s thick cock filling him again and again.

The pressure began to build, tugging at his abdomen and threatening to spill over. Chanyeol’s grunts echoed in his ears, his waist aching in a pleasant way, Chanyeol gripping the skin and helping him to rise and fall against his dick.

His lips pressed against sweat slicked skin, the scent of sex strong in the air.

“I’ve wanted you so much,” Chanyeol moaned, long fingers digging into Kyungsoo’s skin. “Wanted to fuck you, wanted you on me.”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo breathed, parting his lips and dragging his teeth against Chanyeol’s shoulder. “You want to come in me?”

“Hmmm,” Chanyeol hummed, fingers pressing harder.

Kyungsoo’s dick caught the friction between their bodies. Neglected, leaking pre-come, it rubbed against Chanyeol’s abdomen as he snapped his hips harder, as he let Chanyeol move him up and down.

“Has there been anyone but me?” Kyungsoo asked, voice low, sweat rolling down his face. The question, why he was asking it, was lost in the overwhelming lust that washed over him.

“No. Fuck no. Only you,” Chanyeol murmured.

Kyungsoo cried out when Chanyeol gripped his hips, lifting him from the sofa. He clung to Chanyeol’s neck, shocked at the sudden movement. In a few seconds his back was pressed against the wall, legs wrapped around Chanyeol, hanging on lest he fall.

Chanyeol gripped his ass, snapping his hips, driving into him at a brutal pace.

“It’s only ever been you,” he choked.

The new angle had Chanyeol thrusting into Kyungsoo’s prostate, hitting it again and again.

Kyungsoo felt the small bumps of the plaster wall scrape against his back, the sweat running between them. His muscles tensed, he hung onto Chanyeol tightly, the taller man cupping his ass and pressing him harder against the wall.

“It’ll only ever be you,” Chanyeol rasped, slamming his cock inside of Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo flinched, the coil in his abdomen tightening, his release beginning to build. He let his head rest against Chanyeol’s, their sweat slicked cheeks pressing together.

“I imagined this, imagined fucking you like this.”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo moaned, body tensing, approaching his release.

“Fuck baby, you’re still so tight.”

Chanyeol slammed into him, a hard hit that pressed into his prostate. It was enough for Kyungsoo to cry out, to press his nails into Chanyeol’s back as he came.

Chanyeol moaned, thrusting harder, fucking Kyungsoo through his orgasm.

“Come in me,” Kyungsoo keened, overstimulated but enthralled by the flush on Chanyeol’s face, the heave of his chest, the sweat dripping from his temple.

It was a few quick and deep thrusts before Chanyeol let out a strangled cry, gasping as he spilled inside of Kyungsoo with a grunt.

Their heavy breathing filled the room, both men going lax.

“I love you,” Chanyeol whispered, planting soft kisses on Kyungsoo’s forehead, still holding him up.

“Hmm. Put me down,” Kyungsoo managed, feeling utterly boneless.

“Okay,” Chanyeol whispered. “Okay.”

When Kyungsoo woke up the next morning, Chanyeol was gone. He smiled at the note he found on his nightstand.

_Had to go into the office. If you come here often we should do this again ;)_

He rolled his eyes as he got out of bed, heading towards the shower.

 

 

“We need to talk.” In Sung caught him the moment he stepped off the elevator. The lawyer was waiting for him by Baekhyun’s desk.

Kyungsoo didn’t argue. “Lead the way.” When the lawyer gestured for Kyungsoo to follow him back into the elevator, he knew that the topic had to be the deal with Chanyeol – if it was anything else he would have discussed it in the office.

He followed In Sung to a coffee shop near the office, a tiny little place that served good tea but horrible coffee. It wasn’t terribly popular with the office staff for that reason. Even in the morning, it was nearly deserted save for a few elderly gentlemen and the occasional to-go order.

In Sung sighed, crossing his long legs as he settled into the creaky old café chair. They were seated in a corner, away from the counter and away from anyone who may casually eavesdrop out of boredom. “The news that Park Sungjin was working with federal prosecutors is being released this morning.”

Kyungsoo stilled, mouth opening slightly.

“Federal prosecutors are going to have to investigate them after it is exposed, no matter how much money is thrown their way by Chanyeol or his sister. The media is already camped outside of Viva headquarters as we speak. Once the reports get out the Fed's hands are forced, no bribery will cover it up.”

“Was my father…?”

“It was his idea. Breaks your engagement, Yesung managed to find a way into the Viva systems and take any information that might otherwise connect us to them in any way other than the engagement between Joohyun and Chanyeol. We play that we had no idea what the Park family was really doing, they go away and we end up with a few sideways looks and some rumors but otherwise end up unscathed.”

His father was going to end the Parks. He had turned their disadvantage into an advantage, using Chanyeol’s own deal, his own period of inactivity against him.

“Will he be arrested right away?” Kyungsoo heard himself asking, but his voice didn’t sound like his own. It sounded distant like someone else was speaking.

“Maybe. Hard to tell.” In Sung brought his teacup to his lips. “They really do have fantastic tea here.”

Kyungsoo could care less about tea. Chanyeol in handcuffs, being sent to prison….would they find out he killed Namil?

“I have to…I have a meeting.” Kyungsoo abruptly stood, chair scraping on the café floor.

“Of course. See you back at the office.”

Kyungsoo’s composure seemed to crumble with every step he took away, with the way he hurried his pace. He had his phone out before he reached the door, calling Baekhyun to bring his car.

 

 

The drive to Viva Pharmacy’s headquarters was a blur. Kyungsoo knew Baekhyun was giving him strange looks via the rearview mirror, he knew that In Sung probably already suspected he was running off to do something foolish. Normally both things would both annoy him and make him nervous but not now.

He wasn’t even sure what he was going to do, what he could possibly do. If Chanyeol was being arrested, the media camped out to see him taken away, there was nothing productive about running to his side. He had everything to lose by showing up there, by thrusting his family name into the issue at hand.

But he had to go. Chanyeol would do the same, would probably do more for him. All of the lies he told himself, the excuses he had beaten into his head, were thrown away. Chanyeol could have done worse five years ago, he had sacrificed his own future stability for Kyungsoo. He could have let Namil take Kyungsoo down, but he hadn’t. He had killed him instead and lost his own father in the process. Chanyeol would do anything for him.

Chanyeol loved him.

_I love him too._

It was a silent confession that was five years in the making. And it hurt, more than Kyungsoo had thought it would because now there was a chance it was all over, there would be no second chances. It was too late. He could finally admit he didn’t want it to be over.

 

 

 

“Sir, you can’t––“

Kyungsoo pushed open the double doors, avoiding the receptionist who cradled a phone in her hand. She would be calling security, he was sure of that.

When he had arrived at Viva the media was not yet there. The entire ride up to the corporate floor Kyungsoo had expected to have the elevator stop and see federal agents, but there were none. Perhaps he had time to warn Chanyeol. Perhaps there was still some time left before everything went to hell.

He ran into the executive offices, breath heaving from jogging down the hall.

“Chanyeol! The– “ Kyungsoo stopped in his tracks when he realized what he had barged into. Chanyeol was sitting at the head of a conference table, his sister to his right, his brother-in-law to his left, a slew of executives rounding out the meeting. They all stared at him, confusion on their faces.

Chanyeol stood up, muttering apologies to the group as he walked to Kyungsoo. He didn’t hesitate to grab Kyungsoo’s hand and drag him along, out the double doors and into a small office off the hallway.

“What is it?” Chanyeol asked the moment he had the door closed. His hands went to Kyungsoo’s shoulders.

“The media is going to report on your father talking to Namil.” Kyungsoo sucked in a breath.

“What are you talking about?” Chanyeol frowned.

“My father, he planned it. The prosecutors will have to open the investigation.” Kyungsoo grabbed Chanyeol’s forearms with his hands. “You have to do something, there might still be time to stop it.”

Chanyeol suddenly smirked, the expression confusing Kyungsoo.

“See if you can do something before they report on it!” Kyungsoo pleaded, eyes wide.

“Did you come here to save me?” Chanyeol asked, taking a step back. He was smiling, apparently overjoyed.

“I- go do something!”

“You like me,” Chanyeol said, still smiling. “I mean I figured you liked me a little from last night but you _really_ like me.”

“Did you hear what I said?” Kyungsoo made a move to push Chanyeol towards the door but the taller man avoided him.

“I heard perfectly well but there is no possible way the media is reporting on anything. I told you everything was wiped clean, right? There isn’t a shred of evidence my father was talking to Namil about the company, nothing. If your father had anything I would know, but there is nothing to have, nothing to turn over. The only thing that is fact after I was done is that my father, an upstanding businessman, was tragically killed in an act of foreign terrorism that took the life of a respectable prosecutor.”

Kyungsoo stared dumbly. “But In Sung–“

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Kyungsoo fished it out, mind reeling. _Speaking of the devil..._

Kyungsoo brought the phone to his ear, brow furrowed as he stared at Chanyeol.

“Do you want to marry him?” In Sung asked.

“You said that–“

“Answer my question.”

Kyungsoo looked at Chanyeol, at the exuberant expression on his face. He felt his hand begin to shake, the phone unsteady in his grip.

“Your father owes me one favor. This is your chance.” In Sung had set him up, had lied to him so he would rush to Chanyeol’s side, proving a point. And now he was left with a question he wasn’t sure how to answer.

Did he want to marry Chanyeol?

Five years ago he fell into bed with a man with an easy smile, who talked too much, who made his chest hurt from laughing too hard and his cheeks ache from smiling. For a few months, he tasted happiness before the bitterness set in. Five years ago he fell in love.

“Yes.”

“Not a word of this gets out to anyone, about the marriage or the engagement.”

Kyungsoo stiffened at the sound of his father’s voice on the other end of the call.

“There will be no merger and you two better not fucking ask me for a thing. I don’t want it mentioned to anyone and I’m not treating him like a fucking son.”

“Be happy,” In Sung crooned into the phone before the call was disconnected.

Kyungsoo gripped the phone, trying to process what just happened.

“What is it?” Chanyeol asked, taking a step forward.

Kyungsoo cleared his throat. He lowered the phone, mind swimming with a thousand things. “Do you…”

Chanyeol’s eyebrow raised in question.

“I love you,” he managed to get out.

Chanyeol was fast, stepping forward and pulling Kyungsoo into a bone-crushing hug. Kyungsoo relaxed into it, overwhelmed by the events of the last few hours.

“Took you long enough,” Chanyeol whispered, planting a kiss on the top of Kyungsoo’s head. “I love you too.”

Kyungsoo wrapped his arms around Chanyeol’s middle, burying his face in the taller man’s chest. He felt tears sting his eyes, his shoulders relaxing. Chanyeol was safe, they were free to marry…five years of hard feelings, of young love mingled with foolish dreams, had come to this moment.

And Kyungsoo couldn't be happier.

 

 

****

 

 

** Epilogue **

**_Seoul  
April 2042_ **

The stack of newspapers hit Kyungsoo’s desk with a thud. “Merger of White Star Construction and Viva Pharmacies estimated to increase earnings tenfold. Partners in marriage, now partners in business.” Sehun read. “The last one makes me want to puke, not going to lie.”

Kyungsoo looked up from his screen. “Where do you even find print newspapers nowadays?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at his best friend.

Sehun folded his arms across his chest. “I have my ways,” he replied. Kyungsoo didn’t doubt that. He also had his ways finding strong enough hair dye to cover up the deep grey his hair had become (“no it hasn’t, that is a horrible lie”). He also had his ways in still finding the exact spot to sit on Kyungsoo’s desk to annoy him to no end, even if when he hopped up his knees cracked a bit.

Kyungsoo grabbed the top newspaper from the stack. He scanned the article, ignoring the atrocious picture of Chanyeol and him above it. They had held the press conference the day before announcing the official merger of their businesses. It had been a long road to get there. It wasn’t possible while Kyungsoo’s father was alive. He passed away five years ago from a brief illness, allowing them to move forward with the merger. They announced their marriage later that year but their businesses remained separate.

There was a lot of logistical things to figure out, a new office building to build. Merging two corporations that possessed a less than legal side meant twice as much work than a normal merger. Somehow they ended up working out all the details, even though Kyungsoo knew he made a few too many concessions that Chanyeol begged him for. Like….

“Hey grandpa. Hi, Soo” Chanyeol strolled into their shared office.

“You’re older than me,” Sehun shot back.

“I don’t look it though.” Chanyeol made a beeline for Kyungsoo, stopping to plant a kiss on his cheek before he took his seat behind his own desk, a few feet from where Kyungsoo sat. Their office took up an entire floor of the newly constructed building, Kyungsoo couldn’t understand why Chanyeol insisted on sitting within three feet of him when they could be yards apart.

“Your husband is an ass,” Sehun drawled.

“Both of you are if I am being honest,” Kyungsoo said without looking away from his work.

“Whatever. You guys are still on for dinner, right?” Sehun asked.

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Chanyeol confirmed, sounding less than enthused.

Personally Kyungsoo wanted to call it off, but he knew he couldn’t. After all, family dinners were never a good thing but unfortunately they were obligatory. At least most of the time.

 

 

Kyungsoo stopped complaining the second time around, and that was only partially because Chanyeol reminded him they were forsaking their routine naked Wednesday nights for a family dinner. He angled himself onto Chanyeol’s lap, sucking marks into the taller man’s neck with aplomb. They only had a few minutes before they would be home, they needed to make the best of their time. It was another opportunity to realize that driverless cars really were the shit, even if Baekhyun still didn’t trust them.

A small hum of satisfaction escaped Chanyeol’s lips. He threaded his fingers through Kyungsoo's salt and pepper hair with one hand, the other going to the small of his back. “I swear I will never get tired of this.”

Kyungsoo smiled against Chanyeol's neck. He didn’t know how many times he had heard those exact words over the last thirty years. Seriously his husband could be insufferably _cheesy_.

When they arrived at their garage Kyungsoo’s lips were swollen and Chanyeol’s face was bright red. They looked like a mess.

“They can deal with seeing us like this. Serves them right for taking naked Wednesdays from us,” Chanyeol said, opening the car door and alighting.

 

 

It was already a full house when they walked in. Joohyun was there, Sehun sitting beside her. Kyungsoo’s mother was sitting in one of the gaudy floral armchairs that Kyungsoo had let Chanyeol pick out a few years back (he regretted it). Next to her was Soo Jung’s mother. On the opposite sofa was Soo Jung and Jongin, neither looking a day over fifty (which Chanyeol liked to complain about because how come _both of them_ never age).

Yoora, her husband, and her mother couldn’t make it, both vacationing in Thailand.

The two other members of the family who could attend were sitting across from their grandmothers, holding each other’s hands for all to see. Lu Han, hair dyed blonde, something Sehun had probably instilled in him since he was a child. He had Sehun’s attitude mixed perfectly with Joohyun’s kindness and propensity to spend money. He was the heir to White Star Construction, he had taken on a VP role five years before. Kyungsoo thought he was a good kid, if not a bit strong willed (sometimes to his detriment).

Next to him was Minseok, black hair styled up, an earring in his ear. He got his shy personality from his father, Jongin, and his free spirit from his mother, Soo Jung. He was in the running to inherit Jongin’s family business, a string of expensive hotels that Jongin had inherited eight years before.

And now, apparently, they were a _thing_.

Kyungsoo had heard Sehun complain of it a few weeks ago but this was the first time he was seeing it, _seeing them_ , together. They made a cute couple, he would admit. He could see the affection between them with just a glance, the way they held each other’s hands and looked at each other, love in their eyes.

After cursory greetings Kyungsoo and Chanyeol sat down in the only empty seats.

“Now that Uncles are here there is something I want to say,” Lu Han spoke up.

“Don’t you--” Sehun started out but his son talked over him.

“Minseok and I are getting married.”

“You can’t marry him!” Jongin jumped up, face going red. “You’re supposed to marry the heir to Northern Corp!”

“Well we don’t want your son as a son-in-law either!” Sehun pointed his finger at Jongin.

“Hey, what’s wrong with my son?” Soo Jung jumped in, glaring at Sehun.

They began to argue. Kyungsoo glanced at Minseok and Lu Han, noting how unbothered they looked about their parent’s objections. Good for them, he thought.

The two grandmothers joined the fray, shouting their approval of the match. They were overjoyed at the new opportunity after their dream of Kyungsoo and Soo Jung marrying fell through years before. Their voices seemed to be the loudest of the bunch.

“Should we sneak out now or..?” Chanyeol leaned in and whispered.

Kyungsoo shrugged. “Yeah, might as well.”

No one even noticed when they stood and made their way to the front door.

 

 

Kyungsoo’s first reaction upon hearing the news years ago that Chanyeol purchased the little bar was annoyance. He listed off a slew of reasons they didn’t need to own a bar, why it was just another thing that they would have to find someone to manage. But then he had seen the sentimental look in his husband’s eyes and quickly apologized. He hadn’t said a word about it since.

It was the same little place they went decades before, the hole in the wall that reminded them of the bar they had first went to back on Jeju. They made sure to stop in at least once every few weeks. They didn’t drink much anymore, but they would go to eat, to enjoy each other’s company, and to reminisce now and then too.

And sometimes when they dropped in they found old friends, eating alone in the corner booth, a napkin tucked into their dress shirt.

In Sung smiled widely when he saw them approach. He gestured for them to slide into the booth across from him.

He was still handsome even though he was pushing eighty five. His hair was white now and his face had its fair share of wrinkles, but his eyes still had the same youthful glint they always had.

“What brings you two here?” he asked.

“Family dinner, we escaped just in time,” Chanyeol answered, letting Kyungsoo slide into the booth first.

“Ah. How is the family nowadays?”

“Same old, same old. Yelling, engagements, my mother matching people up.” Kyungsoo smiled and shook his head.

In Sung chuckled.

“What have you been up to?” Kyungsoo asked. In Sung had retired from the company shortly after Dongwoo passed away.

“Playing a lot of baduk believe it or not. Keeps my mind sharp.” In Sung pulled the napkin out of his shirt and wiped his hands. “I saw you two on t.v. yesterday. I didn’t think I would see the day when the companies were merged, honestly. I was happy to see it.”

“It was the only thing I could do to make sure he doesn’t run off with a younger man,” Chanyeol joked.

Kyungsoo nudged him in the ribs, earning a laugh from In Sung.

“Like that would happen. You two were made for each other. I knew it from the first time I saw you guys together.”

Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes. “And when was that?”

In Sung shrugged. “Details, details.”

“Yeah, like mysterious favors,” Kyungsoo replied. He had yet to find out exactly why his father owed In Sung such a big favor, one that would have him agreeing to something he absolutely loathed. For the twenty five years after Kyungsoo and Chanyeol married Dongwoo never acknowledged Chanyeol as his son-in-law. He thawed marginally near the end of his life, allowing him over for family get-togethers, but that was the extent of his kindness. It had been extremely trying for the couple, but no matter what Chanyeol blew it off and told Kyungsoo not to be bothered with it. They were together and that was all that mattered.

“Yeah, what did you ever do to get him to agree?” Chanyeol asked. He had learned of the favor years ago, teasing Kyungsoo that it was the only reason he agreed to marry him. They both knew that wasn’t true, it would have happened even without In Sung’s intervention, albeit a lot slower.

“This old man isn’t about to spill the beans now,” In Sung said with a smile. “And besides, it doesn’t matter. You guys are happy and that’s all that matters.”

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol sighed in tandem. They really had picked up each other’s habits over the years.

“Now tell me more about this family dinner. I need more entertainment in my life,” In Sung said, leaning forward, ready to listen attentively.

“Where to even begin. Sehun and Joohyun’s son, Lu Han, he made an announcement…….” Chanyeol began to layout the situation, telling the story with the hyper actions he had retained for all these years.

Kyungsoo half-listened, his mind wandering. He looked at In Sung for a moment. He owed a lot to him, his father’s old friend. More than he could ever repay. He would always be curious what earned In Sung such a huge favor but really it didn’t matter if he never knew. What mattered is that the man he loved was at his side, had been for thirty years. They would spend the rest of their lives together, happy, with naked Wednesdays and bickering relatives and best friends. He couldn’t ask for anything more in the world.

 

 

**_Seoul  
November 1984_ **

 

In Sung slipped the taxi driver the last few notes he had in his uniform pocket, patting the hood of the car before he turned around. He took a moment to just _look_ , to take it all in. He’d been gone for two years serving in the military, not a trip back in all that time. He’d missed this place.

Perhaps he had expected something would have changed in the old neighborhood, but he could see it hadn't. Same drab buildings, same odor of cooking mixed with a smell he could never place. Dongwoo used to tell him it was the scent of poverty, In Sung could almost claim he believed him. A dog wandered out from a back alley, a mangy thing that looked about as put together as any of the inhabitants of this place.

People easily forgot this neighborhood, how tough it was to grow up here. They turned their noses down at it, but to In Sung it was a paradise. It was where his best friends lived, where you could always count on someone to have your back. It was home.

A filthy, dilapidated sprawl of loyalty, of hopes, of promises for what might come. They lived on dreams and ruthlessly chased them.

He was happy to be home.

 

 

Sung Minho had been the one who gave him the address during their last call. “Dongwoo bought it outright. Can you fucking believe we have a shop now?”

Honestly, he couldn’t. When he’d left the guys had still been running petty rackets, some gambling, prostitution, and a drug deal here or there. Nothing big. Now there was some money flying around, which made him feel strange as well as hopeful.

He arrived at the white concrete store after a ten minute walk. It wasn’t anything overly impressive but it was a start. He pushed the grimy glass door open, bells on the door jingling and clanking against the window as he stepped inside. There were tools everywhere, construction equipment wall to wall.

A man stepped out from the backroom. Oh Dongho. In Sung hadn’t seen him since he left for basic.

“Well, well look who showed up.” Dongho quickly rounded the counter, reaching out he rubbed his hand over In Sung’s buzz cut. “You grew at least three inches. Didn’t I tell you to stop?”

In Sung laughed and moved away from his touch. “Is Dongwoo around?”

“He ran back home for a minute, Sungjin’s with him.”

“Ahh. Sungjin’s back?” Park Sungjin had been in the military for a year when In Sung left, of course he would be back. In Sung felt stupid for asking.

“Back and better than ever. I swear that guy doesn’t have an off button.”

“I’ll go see them then.”

“Tell the boss that his shipment came,” Dongho called after In Sung. “And tell him I want a raise while you’re at it!”

 

 

Do Dongwoo lived in a house not far from the store, a rundown concrete structure with a shoddy tin roof. It had been his mother's house until she drank herself to death. It was the only thing she had left him.

In Sung had spent a lot of his youth running in and out of the place so he had no qualms walking in without knocking. He smirked, imagining what Dongwoo would say when he saw him for the first time. He made it into the front room and was toeing off his shoes when he froze. Raised voices.

“You don’t think we can make this work? What kind of–”

“Damnit Dongwoo!”

In Sung stood immobile, eyes going wide when he saw Sungjin storm out of the back room. He was shirtless, clad only in jeans. The large tattoo on his back, the one In Sung had seen him get, now wrapped partially over his torso, the green scales of the dragon standing out against his pale skin. Behind him Dongwoo followed, hands clenched, hair a mess. He was only wearing boxers, his chest marred by pink blotches that In Sung could recognize as hickeys.

Neither man saw him standing there. He was afraid to move in case they noticed him, he was seeing something he had a feeling he wasn’t supposed to.

Dongwoo grabbed Sungjin’s arm, pulling him around to face him. “You don’t get to decide to just end it!”

Sungjin tried to shrug the shorter man off. He was taller but he wasn’t stronger, failing to dislodge Dongwoo’s grip on his arm. “I can decide what I want. Fuck, you think either of us will get anywhere like _this_? You think the guys will still follow us when they find out what we are? We can’t keep hiding this shit forever.”

A half sob escaped Dongwoo’s lips. “I love you, doesn’t-”

In Sung carefully stepped back, managing to push open the door and step outside without making too much noise. He stalked towards the back of the house next door, an abandoned lot. He fished out a pack of smokes from his uniform, lighting one with shaky hands.

He could hear more yelling next door but he couldn’t make out the words.

What had he just seen? What had...were they….

Dongwoo and Sungjin had always been close. Very close. The best of friends but were...did….

He heard a crash from next door, then the front door opening and slamming. He could see Sungjin stalking outside, now fully clothed. He stomped down the street, away from Dongwoo’s house.

A moment later the back door to Dongwoo’s house opened, the man stepping outside, tear stains on his cheeks. He wiped them away with the back of his hand, lighting a smoke up and puffing. In Sung stood still, but it wasn't enough. Dongwoo noticed him a few seconds later, paling at the sight.

In Sung stared back, cigarette between his fingers, smoke rising.

“In Sung?” Dongwoo furrowed his brow.

In Sung took a step forward, approaching his old friend slowly.

“I didn’t know you were back.”

“Yeah, I am.” In Sung tossed his cigarette onto the pavement and stubbed it out with the toe of his boot.

“H-how much did you hear?” Dongwoo asked, eyes watering.

In Sung exhaled sharply and looked away.

“It isn’t. I’m not,” Dongwoo stuttered.

“It’s okay.” In Sung returned his gaze to his friend. “It will be okay.”

“Don’t tell anyone, please don’t tell anyone.” He was crying now, wiping away his tears again. His voice was ripe with pain. “It wasn’t...it was only him. He says–” Dongwoo paused, wiping away the new stream of tears. “He says he never loved me. Do you know how much that fucking hurts? I hate him, I’ll always hate him for that.”

In Sung nodded.

“He’s leaving today, said he’s moving. Fuck.” Dongwoo took a puff from his smoke, hands shaking. “But I’m not like that. You won't tell anyone I’m like that will you? I’ll owe you if you keep this secret. Please. I’ll owe you forever.”

 In Sung nodded. “I won’t say a word.”

“Thank you,” Dongwoo said, voice shaky. “Because it isn’t...you know. It isn’t like _that._ Not anymore.”

“I know,” In sung said quietly. “I know.”

“He’s going to do his own thing, he said. Fucking start all over. In Sung, this…” He wiped at his face with the back of his hand. “I’m never going to forgive him for this. I’m never going to. He’s. We’re enemies now. We’ll always be enemies after this. _Always_.”


End file.
